


Whiskeyed Me Off My Feet

by Snowy38



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxious Harry, Bar!Harry, Did I Mention Fluff, Fluff, Fluffyfest, Jealousy, Lawyer!Harry, M/M, Misunderstandings, Student!Harry, Tiny bit of Angst, Top Louis, fashion!louis, sexy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:06:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowy38/pseuds/Snowy38
Summary: It was the twenty-eighth time he'd been in....the guy with the stunning smile. The fact he also had incredibly beautiful eyes and this mischievous little purse to his lips when his eyes crinkled was a small detail. The fact he had lovely features and the longest eye-lashes Harry had ever seen-well that was a minor observation. The fact he was kind of small and would fit perfectly in Harry's arms?He had a lot of interest in that, definitely.But he was with someone. The beautiful one was taken.Well, of course, Harry arched a brow cynically. He was beautiful, of course he was going to be taken.





	Whiskeyed Me Off My Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people, just a little drabble I wrote that someone forced me to finish (cough Sam), who also came up with the title!
> 
> Coming up I have a Circus themed fic, a Handmaid's Tale style fic and another little drabble story. Still working on KILT HARRY <3
> 
> Enjoy?
> 
> Ang

 

 

It was the twenty-eighth time he'd been in....the guy with the stunning smile. The fact he also had incredibly beautiful eyes and this mischievous little purse to his lips when his eyes crinkled was a small detail. The fact he had lovely features and the longest eye-lashes Harry had ever seen-well that was a minor observation. The fact he was kind of small and would fit perfectly in Harry's arms?

 

He had a lot of interest in that, definitely.

 

But he was with someone. The beautiful one was taken.

 

Well, of course, Harry arched a brow cynically. He was beautiful, of course he was going to be taken.

 

"Eh...you still serving?"

 

Harry snapped his head up from where he'd been studying his battered boots. That was definitely preferable to being caught staring.

 

"Mm-hmm," Harry nodded his affirmation, waiting for the order.

 

He didn’t usually come to the bar, his boyfriend did. The well-muscled, very good-looking guy with brown hair and eyes that he spent every meeting with here. The one who made him laugh, made those crinkles appear and made that breath-taking smile break free.

 

A light throat-clearing brought Harry to blinking consciousness.

 

"Um," he frowned, not sure what he'd missed- if anything.

 

"Just two beers," the guy repeated in a lightly husky, marginally high voice. "Are you okay?" He added with that mischievous curl to the edge of his lips, his cheeks defining with the move.

 

Harry nodded again, going about filling two pint glasses. Suddenly he’d forgotten how to pour.

 

"I can show you, if you'd like?" The guy suggested, lifting his brows as Harry looked up from half a cup of froth.

 

"No, I can do it," he replied rather tersely.

 

"Alright," the guy held up two hands in surrender. "Just offering..."

 

Harry went about concentrating. It was a slow process.

 

"I'm Louis, by the way..." the guy said then, making Harry's hand jog and the glass slipped precariously sideways, some of the contents streaming down the side of the glass.

 

"Harry..." he supplied his name distractedly, his hand shaking a little in the wake of narrowly avoiding disaster.

 

"Look, it's really not that bad," Louis said, heading to the side of the bar where he flipped up the divider and ducked behind, standing behind Harry slightly to steady his shaky hand. "Right- tilt just a bit..."

 

Harry froze, swallowing hard.

 

"Relax, mate, I'm not gonna frisk you..." Louis teased, his voice as warm as his breath that hit Harry's neck.

 

Harry tried to tilt the glass to the described angle and managed a shaky smile when he did so.

 

"Okay, now turn on the tap," Louis reached across Harry's other side to do the honours, finishing his ruined glass and quickly slipping the new glass under the flow.

 

"See?" Louis asked.

 

Harry frowned.

 

"Have you been doing this all night?" Louis mused then.

 

"No," Harry sighed, breathing out when Louis stepped back.

 

"Just tired then, it's late," Louis observed. "You need to ring the bell for last orders..."

 

"Did you used to work here?" Harry guessed belatedly.

 

Louis smirked, blue-grey eyes rolling. Harry was rather distracted by his lashes once more.

 

"No, but I’ve done bar-work..."

 

"Oh," he nodded lamely, feeling speechless. Feeling breathless too.

 

"How much?" Louis prompted gently.

 

"Oh, on the house," Harry quickly assured.

 

Louis narrowed his eyes.

 

"I hope this isn’t some stupid thank-you credit," he accused.

 

Harry shrugged.

 

"Yeah, yeah, I guess it is," he took the easy way out.

 

Louis tutted, shaking his head.

 

"No need for that, young Padawan..."

 

Harry smiled at that, huffing out an amused breath.

 

"Forgive me Obi-Wan, next time I'll be sure to charge the going rate..."

 

Louis chuckled, sipping at the froth on the gone-wrong beer glass.

 

"Cheers," he lifted a glass up to Harry in acknowledgement.

 

"Cheers," Harry replied in his slow, heavy voice.

 

He sighed dreamily as Louis walked away, his weight carried mostly on the front of his feet making him appear just the slightest bit bouncy. He looked lovely in tight jeans that wrapped around his curvy-looking thighs and hugged his behind.

 

When he sat down he leaned across to share something funny with his boyfriend and the guy looked up, eyes twinkling.

 

Harry blushed and looked away, turning to ring the bell for last orders.

 

No doubt Louis was telling him all about his inability to pour a fucking pint.

 

//

 

"Alright, mate?"

 

Louis' boyfriend was leaning on the bar, looking far too chipper for a Monday night. It was dead in the pub and Harry had run out of things to clean.

 

"Hi..." Harry leaned up off the back of the bar. "What can I get you?"

 

"Er...well I'm pretending to ask what your snack selection is," the guy said and Harry arched a brow.

 

"Why pretending?"

 

If this was some kind of open-up-to-the-barman speech he wasn’t sure he could take it to be really frank. If the guy started talking about the break-down of his relationship or something, then Harry might find himself incapable of being objective.

 

The guy bit his lip.

 

"I think Louis likes you," he blurted out.

 

Harry blinked and then frowned.

 

"Erm..."

 

"You better pass me some pork scratchings," the brown-haired man gestured nervously to the cardboard rack of bar-snacks.

 

Harry slipped a packet out of the hook and tossed them on the counter.

 

"Anything else?"

 

"Yeah, Louis," The guy hissed.

 

"Look, he’s _your_ boyfriend," Harry said gently. "I'm sure he loves _you_."

 

"What?" the guy frowned. "What-no! Oh god, no-He's not...we're not-"

 

"I don't do threesomes if that's what you're getting at," Harry added quickly, annoyed.

 

The guy's eyes brightened with mirth and a perfect smile broke out, along with laughter.

 

"I'm totally fucking this up," he murmured to himself and Harry nodded in agreement.

 

Louis sidled up by the brown-haired guy's side, tucking into him.

 

"Well, have you asked him yet?" Louis smirked at the guy Harry was staring at jealously.

 

Liam smiled wanly, realising what Harry was going to make of that question.

 

"Yeah, he has actually," Harry offered. "Really badly and actually I don't like sharing, so I won’t be joining you and your boyfriend tonight, sorry," he mused bitterly.

 

Louis frowned, looking at Harry for a long, curious moment. He turned back to the man beside him.

 

"Li, what did you ask him, exactly?" Louis wondered.

 

Liam planted his face in his hand and shook his head.

 

"Not that," he sighed. "But it all got a bit...mangled," he explained.

 

Louis arched a brow at Harry.

 

"This is Liam, he's my best friend. He meant to ask you if you had any snacky bits that aren’t on the counter, but I guess he went wrong somewhere..."

 

Harry felt a hot blush rush up his chest onto his cheeks.

 

_Oh fuck._

 

"Oh," he frowned.

 

"How the hell he managed to ask you to join a ménage-a-trois I'm not really sure," Louis added with another look to Liam.

 

Liam shook his head again, turning to go but Louis grasped his elbow.

 

"Think you owe our Harold an apology, don’t you?" Louis mused.

 

Harry opened his mouth quickly putting his hands in front of him in apology.

 

"No... it’s fine, I think this was more than half my fault anyway I just assumed that-well I thought you were-"

 

Louis lifted both of his perfectly sculpted curved brows.

 

"Together," Harry breathed after staring into those oceanic eyes. "I thought you were together..."

 

Louis pursed his lips and gave Liam the once over.

 

"Nah," he decided with that mischievous little twinkle. "And it’s nice to see you have standards, Harold., I wouldn’t want to share either," Louis winked, turning Liam with a push, grabbing the packet off the bar.

 

"Add it to my tab," he told Harry and Harry knew he didn’t have one because everything he let Louis have for free came out of his wages.

 

//

 

Louis came back in on Friday with a different guy.

 

Harry was sure this time that _this_ was his boyfriend. The guy was-well, it was painful to look at him he was so good-looking.

 

And Louis had sent his new friend to the bar as per the usual status.

 

"Er, two beers," the guy ordered with a cool look, all dark hair and dark eyes.

 

"Any snacks?" Harry enquired pointedly.

 

The guy met his gaze full-on then and smirked.

 

He pointed airily behind Harry.

 

"My friend wanted some of those pork thingys," he offered vaguely.

 

Harry slipped a packet off the card and lay them down while he successfully filled two glasses without any spills.

 

When Louis brought them back empty, he felt all his previous professional cool vaporise.

 

The way Louis had to prop his elbows on the bar and no doubt lean onto tiptoes made Harry's knees weak and his stomach flutter.

 

"Harold." Louis greeted with that sparkle in his blue-grey eyes and that curve to his delicious lips.

 

"Louis," Harry nodded, trying not to let the heavy-excited beat of his heart leave him too breathless but if Louis kept calling him _Harold_ then he might not survive.

 

"Got any hot, salty chips under that counter?" He leaned right over to look, gifting Harry with a lovely view of his shoulders and muscular back, all lithe and broad and-

 

Cute.

 

Louis really was so very cute.

 

The words 'hot' and 'salty' seemed to get stuck in Harry's brain as he blinked at Louis, motionless.

 

"Only if not," Louis leaned back, oblivious to Harry's turmoil. "Do you maybe fancy getting some later?"

 

 _Later?_ As in-

 

"When I close up, you mean?" Harry checked.

 

Louis met his gaze and then nodded, brows lifting in silent question.

 

"What about your-um- _friend_?" Harry wondered.

 

Louis looked over his shoulder to remind himself of his company.

 

"Oh, Zayn can take care of himself. We're not you know...dating or anything like that..."

 

Harry nodded, still on an alternative planet. Louis wanted to have chips with him. Was this a version of asking him out? Or actually just a way of telling him that his bar snacks were not up to the mark?

 

"So..." Louis' sharp voice snapped Harry out of his daze.

 

"Hm?"

 

"Did you want to get chips after?" Louis re-asked, with a bemused tilt to his head.

 

He was going to think Harry had special needs at this rate. Harry made a proper effort to draw air into his lungs and connect his eyes with Louis'.

 

"Yeah...yeah, I want to," he answered with a small smile.

 

Louis nodded once in a sort of _'success'_ way.

 

"Alright Curly, fill us up then, may as well get merry while I'm waiting..."

 

Harry took the two glasses to refill.

 

//

 

"I can't believe you ordered a spam fritter," Louis was scoffing over his own battered sausage.

 

Harry didn't feel comfortable to make sausage jokes just yet.

 

"Wanna try it?" Harry ripped a bit off as they walked in search of a seat, the cool air making their breath steamy like their chips.

 

Louis opened his mouth and dangled out his tongue and Harry turned to place the battered meat on it, somehow  stumbling over his own feet a little and pushing onto his tongue a little harder than intended.

 

Louis shut his lips around Harrys fingers and laughed, trying not to spit it out.

 

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" Harry blushed, wiping his fingers off on his thigh.

 

Louis chomped with a grin, shaking his head with those bright eyes shining. Harry felt mesmerised by him. Louis was like sunshine. You couldn’t look away even though it was blinding.

 

"Mm-bench," Louis pointed to a free seat and his arm went across Harry's front to steer him and he hesitated a bit before sitting down with a dejected sigh.

 

"So," Louis stuffed a pinch of chips into his mouth.

 

"So," Harry mimicked lightly, nibbling his fritter.

 

"You work at the pub every night?" Louis checked.

 

Harry nodded.

 

"Study during the day- law degree- and share a room in the dorms."

 

Louis arched a brow.

 

"Wow..."

 

Harry turned a bit towards him, picking up the second half of his fritter and offering it to Louis.

 

Louis leaned forward to take a bite, returning the action with his sausage. Harry lifted his eyes to Louis as he bit into it, wondering if Louis liked him even a little bit.

 

"What about you?" Harry wondered then.

 

"Fashion advisor," Louis shared. "Got my own place," he added. "I work for a big fashion house for now. Until I, you know, make a name for myself..."

 

"Oh yeah? Be your own brand?" Harry's interest piqued.

 

"Tomlinson's got a good ring to it," Louis nodded.

 

Harry grinned.

 

"I'm Styles," he said then, inanely.

 

"What?" Louis smiled bemusedly.

 

"Harry Styles...it's fate, right?" He arched a brow.

 

Louis nodded, the smile fixing to his pretty pink lips.

 

"Fate...I like that," he mused.

 

Harry licked his lips free of the salt and wondered if he was imagining things or if Louis' eyes really had just traced that movement. He did it again to check and Louis' eyes flicked up this time, meeting his.

 

"I hope you're not teasing me, Harold Styles," Louis murmured with a very small smirk.

 

Harry shook his head, leaning forward. He paused, tilting his head to one side as he began to second guess himself but before he could pull away, before he could hit the escape button, his lips were falling upon Louis'; pressing into their sweet softness and brushing against them to taste him.

 

He tasted beautiful, more beautiful than he looked, even. He must be made by angels, Harry decided. He pulled away when his heart beat erratically, hard and painful in his chest. He sucked in a breath and sat back a bit.

 

"I hope you don’t kiss all your first dates like that," Louis managed, although Harry did note he sounded a little breathy and husky, even.

 

Harry blinked. _What first dates?_

 

"Don’t date," he offered truthfully.

 

Louis smirked properly with a narrowed gaze.

 

"Liar..."

 

"S'true," Harry assured softly. "Don’t get time..."

 

Louis went back to his chips, pushing them around and flicking them about to find the fresh ones.

 

"So...you er...you wouldn’t...you know...do this again, maybe?" He ventured, sliding a sideways glance at Harry nonchalantly.

 

Harry leaned back and huffed out a breath.

 

"You mean you'd _want_ to?" He asked incredulously.

 

Louis grinned then, mostly into his lap but Harry still caught the edge of his smile and the crinkles in the corner of his eyes.

 

"Maybe," he allowed with a brow-arch and a sideways glance at Harry.

 

It took two seconds for Harry to draw in air.

 

"Okay, yeah," he agreed softly.

 

Louis nodded once, the night wrapping around them.

 

//

 

Louis was dressed more smartly for their second date. He'd put on a jacket over his band tee and skinny jeans, replacing plimsolls with black shoes, no socks. The jacket's sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, his fringe pushed up instead of swept across his forehead.

 

Harry blew warm air into his cupped, cold hands, bobbing from foot to foot.

 

"Hey," he greeted as Louis came closer, hands jammed into his jeans front pockets.

 

Harry had more sensibly worn his winter coat over his own skinny jeans (blue), suede boots (brown) and a grey long sleeve top.

 

"Hi," Louis' brows lifted at the same time the corners of his mouth quirked up. "So where are you taking me, Harold?"

 

Harry smiled and turned, starting to walk.

 

"Somewhere," he answered deliberately mysterious.

 

Louis side-eyed him, swinging his hips to keep up with Harry's long strides.

 

"You got the night off work then?"

 

Harry glanced at him, realising he was rushing and letting out a warm breath into the cool air, slowing his steps a little. Louis slowed down, too, doing that thing where he bounced on the fronts of his feet.

 

"Yeah, I did," he smiled. "I just asked for it, it wasn’t a problem."

 

"Will you be okay money-wise?" Louis checked.

 

Harry gave him a lop-sided smile.

 

"It'll be fine, Louis," he assured softly, ducking his head.

 

Louis rolled his eyes and pursed his lips in that way that had Harry entranced from day one.

 

"Look, I wasn't-" Louis shook his head with an amused sigh out. "I work for Tom Ford, okay?" He expressed in a mumble. "I make more money than is probably sensible..."

 

Harry blinked at him, his long legs loping in slow motion to allow Louis to keep up.

 

"I can afford it, " Harry murmured. "I wouldn't have asked you out otherwise."

 

Louis looked up then, eyes bright and brows arcing.

 

"Oh, _you_ asked _me_ out? I seem to remember it was the other way around, Harold."

 

"Hey, I officially texted you and asked you to come out with me tonight..." Harry defended.

 

"But it was _me_ that mentioned a second date," Louis placed his hand on his chest emphatically.

 

"Only because I didn’t think you'd want to," Harry mumbled.

 

Louis pretended not to hear, his eyes flicking over Harry's face.

 

"What?" Harry rubbed his palm down his cheek onto his chin. He had light stubble where he was normally clean-shaven, and it was patchy, but he hadn’t had time to shave after lectures. "Do I have toothpaste? Moisturiser? Lint?" He wondered.

 

Louis shook his head with a secret smile.

 

"No, you're good," he mused. "Are we there yet?"

 

"Uh-" Harry stopped suddenly and looked around them, changing direction with an awkward swallow. "It's-" he pointed the way they’d just come. "-over there. Whoops."

 

Louis grinned and let a chuckle escape his lips.

 

"Alright, come on then," Louis tilted his head to gesture to the front of the restaurant Harry had chosen, checking the traffic before they crossed the road.

 

Louis' hand pressed gently into Harry's lower back and he wasn’t sure if he was having a heart attack or if fireworks were going off in his chest, but the unexpected feeling made him clumsy and he tripped on the curb, stumbling onto the pavement.

 

"Whoa," Louis laughed, grasping his bicep gently. "Okay there?"

 

Harry nodded, biting his lower lip as he begged his cheeks not to flush.

 

"I'm fine," he assured. "Let's go in, shall we?"

 

Louis' hand seemed to naturally slip onto Harry's back again and it didn’t make his knees weak.

 

It _didn’t_.

 

//

 

Harry looked at Louis with a reverence he hadn’t really bestowed upon anybody before. Mostly because Louis was the most attractive person he’d ever seen. It was hard _not_ to look at him like he was the most precious thing on earth.

 

Maybe it wasn’t usual to stare the way he did; hands cupped gently against his cheeks. Maybe it wasn’t _the done thing._

When Harry leaned in to kiss him, he felt shaky; like all his nerves were livewires sparking off at once. It was a miracle that his lips landed in the right place; gently brushing Louis'. He might have done this once before, but he didn’t feel any less nervous.

 

Louis' breath smelled like the coffee they’d drunk _after_ dessert. His lips were warm and clung to his. When Harry's lashes fluttered to bring his eyes open to check the signals; Louis' were half lidded where his chin tipped up to match his height.

 

Harry slid one arm around him and tilted his face to go back for more.

 

 _More_.

 

God, he just wanted more. He wanted all of it, really.

 

When they stumbled inside Louis' plush flat Harry paused; arms tight around him.

 

He swallowed. His body ached with wanting _more_. His blood thrashed around his veins.

 

“Want-” his voice broke, brow furrowing. 

 

 _Fuck_.

 

What _did_ he want?

 

His eyes beseeched the hazy blue of Louis'.

 

Louis seemed to understand, thumbing his cheek.

 

“You sure?”

 

Harry stared at him, eyes widening. It wasn’t a case of uncertainty. Louis didn’t need to check his permission; he had signed that slip the day Louis had taken a seat in the bar.

 

But it set something fluttering in his chest that he’d _asked_. He nodded, unable to push words out of his throat.

 

//

 

Louis looked angelic.

 

Harry smirked to himself. Last night had been-

 

He swallowed, fingers brushing Louis' fringe away from his eye as he slept (quite cutely) while Harry watched.

 

He clenched his ass cheeks to reaffirm the feeling. Achy, not sore. Louis knew what he was doing and Harry flushed a bit as the memories rushed back.

 

He’d been uncharacteristically vocal. Some might even say _wanton._

_Oh god._

 

He trailed his fingers across Louis’ collarbones with a distressed sigh. Louis probably wouldn’t want to repeat last night. He'd been shameful in his need. He'd—

 

He squeezed his eyes shut against the image of himself shooting over Louis' hand the second he’d sat back on his thick heat; thighs straining as he straddled his hips.

 

It hadn’t been _that_ long. He wasn’t sixteen and unable to control his urges. And yet Louis had felt so perfect stretching him out. He hadn’t known what hit him until Louis had laughed breathily, sitting up to cuddle him in; to kiss his cheek.

 

Had he been mocking his quick release?

 

They'd switched places; Louis fucking him until his own peak was met and although they’d woken at twilight they’d only cuddled closer and kissed a bit until Louis had slipped back into sleep.

 

Harry’s tummy lolloped.

 

By rights they should have gone at it again. Maybe Louis hadn’t wanted to. Maybe Harry was just a one-time thing for him. Suddenly the fireworks that had been shooting in his chest last night burned out, leaving him feeling cold and afraid.

 

He rolled to the edge of the bed and quietly slipped off it, gathering his clothes.

 

//

 

How many guys did Louis know, _exactly_?

 

He was back; his presence sensed more by his body tingling with awareness than the fact he saw him walk in.

 

_Shit. Shit._

He quickly finger-combed his short, fluffy hair and straightened his striped shirt. He pouted when he noticed that it was buttoned crookedly; one button extra peeking out at the bottom edge.

 

_For fuck’s sake._

Louis was in front of him before he could rebutton his entire shirt, long fingers labouring over each button hole.

 

“Hi.” Harry tried not to stare at his companion and failed, brows furrowed in secret jealousy.

 

Louis’ eyes narrowed, focusing on his hands for a moment.

 

“Going topless to get more customers?” He wondered.

 

Harry snorted.  Not likely.

 

“My shirt—never mind,” he finished quietly.

 

He let his eyes peek at Louis. He looked pensive. Louis swallowed and propped his arm on the bar.

 

“I uh...didn’t hear from you,” Louis ventured.

 

His companion arched an interested brow as he looked between them.

 

“You must be Harry,” the slightly taller brunette stuck his hand out. “I’m Niall. Everyone calls me Nialler.”

 

Harry looked at Louis for a second before shaking the guy's hand.

 

“I’m Harry.”

 

“Figured,” Niall smiled. “He only brought me for moral support,” he tipped his head toward the smaller man.

 

Louis elbowed him.

 

Harry frowned.

 

“Why would you need moral support?”

 

Harry was the one who needed support. He was the one who had embarrassed himself; not _Louis._

“Wasn’t sure you were still talking to me,” Louis told him honestly and Harry felt his stomach fall into his feet.

 

“What?”

 

“You snuck out,” Niall supplied happily. “And you never replied to his morning-after message…”

 

Harry’s lips fell open just as Louis hissed at his friend to sit down at a table.

 

“That’s why you brought me, Tommo,” his friend laughed as he sauntered away.

 

Harry kept staring.

 

“You mean … you meant it?” He frowned.

 

The words from Louis' text were printed into his brain in some sad, romantic snapshot; cursive writing on aged paper instead of the electronic text on his phone.

 

_Missed you when I woke up. Had a brilliant night. Call me?_

Harry hadn’t called. But he'd thought—well what _had_ he thought? That Louis was just being nice. He seemed nice. He seemed like the kind of guy to try and gloss over things. Bad things. Like how Harry had embarrassed himself.

 

Louis was biting into his lower lip until he took a fortifying breath.

 

“I best order some beers while we sort this out...”

 

Harry didn’t pull his best pints, but they were infinitely better than his last try in Louis' presence.  Louis took the drinks (and some snacks) to Niall before doubling back, launching himself onto a bar stool while Harry served a few other customers.

 

“I meant it,” Louis told him when Harry settled, leaning his hip against the counter behind the bar.

 

“Oh,” he swallowed, cheeks flushing slightly.

 

“Does that change anything?” He asked carefully.

 

Harry blinked at him.

 

“Everything,” he admitted softly.

 

His shirt was gaping open at the front from his aborted attempt to fix it and Louis' gaze seemed to have rested there; among his light chest hair.

 

“Can I drop you home after you finish?” Louis asked.

 

Harry thought about it. Louis had _missed_ waking up with him. That meant he’d wanted Harry to be there.  And that could also possibly mean that Louis hadn’t minded how embarrassing Harry was. Possibly.

 

“Alright,” he agreed with a furtive look.

 

Louis smiled at him; a little cautiously. Like the sun peeking over the horizon.

 

Harry smiled back.

 

//

 

“So, you really thought I was just being polite?” Louis called across the car as Harry bent one leg to tuck his ankle in by the seat.

 

Harry smiled, pressing a thumb into his lips bashfully.

 

“Kind of, yeah...”

 

Louis glanced at him, weaving through traffic.

 

“I, uh. I thought we both...um...had a nice time?” He arched a brow and cleared his throat.

 

Harry fidgeted with his fingers.

 

“I had a really nice time,” he assured; sensing Louis' insecurity. “I wasn’t sure about you,” he admitted.

 

Louis nodded, gaze distracted on the road.

 

“Can we do it again?” He asked plainly.

 

Harry blurted out a laugh, sobering when Louis' hand squeezed his thigh.

 

“Not joking,” he added softly with a smile.

 

Harry felt something warm flood his tummy; sticky and sweet.

 

“Okay.”

 

This time he'd keep quiet and temper his ardour.  This time he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

 

“I’ll pick you up from Uni,” Louis suggested. “Friday night?”

 

Harry nodded, thoughts elsewhere until they reached his dorms.

 

Louis got out of the car and his heart tremored excitedly in his chest. _Louis was walking him to his door._

 

“Want to come up?” He invited.

 

Louis smiled and leaned in; soft lips pressing against his cheek longingly.

 

“Not tonight. See you Friday,” he added before he turned away.

 

Harry’s tummy didn’t sink in disappointment. It _didn’t._

_//_

“Harold...”

 

Louis leaned back from his position knelt between Harry’s thighs on the bed; lips licked by his little pink tongue.

 

Harry swallowed fearfully, eyes wide.

 

_Shit._

“Hmm?” He prompted nervously, his knees that were pinned to Louis' sides awkwardly falling away as he settled his feet against the mattress.

 

“You don’t have to—” Louis' fingers traced his ankle bones gently, wrapping Harry’s legs around his waist. “Can I ask you something?”

 

Harry let his hands stroke slowly down Louis' chest onto his tummy. If he was going to end things, then Harry needed memory files of how Louis felt; to lock away for when he was lonely.

 

“Okay,” he acquiesced.

 

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Louis bit his lip. “But last time we did this, you seemed to enjoy it a lot more...”

 

Harry’s heart stopped clean in his chest.

 

_Shit._

Louis _had_ noticed how loud he was. How _needy_.

 

He’d been holding back, swallowing down his whimpers and biting his cries into his swollen lips. And now Louis thought he wasn’t _enjoying_ it.

 

He peered at his rock-hard dick and looked back at Louis with an arched brow.

 

“Pretty sure I'm enjoying it,” he smiled lopsidedly.

 

Louis pressed his hands on top of Harry's; now settled against Louis’ hips.

 

“That's good...that's great,” he licked his lips again, eyes circling to room until they rested back on Harry’s. “But last time-”

 

Harry blushed; the mottled red of his chest swooshing up over his face. He squirmed a bit and looked away.

 

“Last time I was too loud,” he murmured. “And-” he paused. “Other things.”

 

Louis lifted one of Harry’s hands off his body and brought it to his lips to press a kiss into his palm.

 

“If you’re happy then so am I,” he promised softly. “But if you want to...you know,” he swallowed again, hard. “Be loud or whatever then that’s fine, too.”

 

Harry gasped when Louis' fingers brushed over his heat. His hips lifted in response; eyes squeezing shut.

 

Not _again_. _Please_.

 

“If you want to...” Louis rasped as his fingers tightened around Harry’s heat. “... Come more than once, then I’m good for that, as well.”

 

Harry moaned, the noise loud and throaty as he parted his lips to release it.  He blinked his eyes open to look at Louis and caught his self-satisfied smirk.

 

“That’s better,” he praised softly, stroking Harry slowly with his hand.

 

Harry whined in his throat, thighs parting instinctively even when he had them wrapped around Louis’ middle.

 

Louis lay his feet gently on the bed and pressed kisses to the inside of his knee; biting devilishly into his inner thigh where his stubble burned in the best way possible.

 

“Louis,” Harry begged weakly, a high-pitched, almost panicked cry leaving his lips.

 

“So easy,” Louis grinned against his skin; shifting to lick over his tip; hot tongue flicking out to guide Harry’s dick onto it.

 

Harry felt his veins quiver; felt his skin tighten up as he swelled; blood rushing south and leaving him mindless.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, feet kicking helplessly against the sensation.

 

“After,” Louis promised, thumb brushing automatically over him as his hand clamped around; allowing Harry to fuck up into the hold.

 

“Ah! Louis! Please—god, _please_ ,” he gasped.

 

Louis leaned over him to lick his tongue across his nipple; flickering the tip over the hard nub until Harry weakened with a disbelieving, pained cry.

 

His body unravelled from the inside out; hot lava surging up inside him and spilling over his belly, chest and thighs.

 

He felt Louis press a loving kiss onto his lips.

 

“You’re going to do that again with me inside you,” he promised.

 

Harry sucked in as much air as he could.

 

//

 

“Who was that guy?” Cara asked Harry as they walked the Uni halls together.

 

“What guy?” Harry feigned innocence.

 

Cara smirked at him and cocked her head.

 

“We both know what guy. The one who picked you up in the Bentley,” she mused.

 

Harry bit his lip.

 

“Oh. Oh, that was Louis,” he explained.

 

His friend watched his profile intently until he huffed.

 

“What?” He asked tetchily.

 

“You like him,” she decided.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s just casual,” he swallowed down the lie. For him, his liaison with Louis was _anything_ but casual. Louis encouraging him to be himself in bed (the very thing he had feared Louis hadn’t liked) had hammered a little love-note to his heart that he couldn’t take down.

 

Louis might see him as a commodity; a convenient bed partner until his next rich boyfriend came along but Harry was admittedly smitten.

 

Louis liked _cuddling_ for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t giving Harry much chance _not_ to fall in love. Apart from acceptance of the sheer abandonment Harry showcased during sex; if there was one thing that secured Harry’s heart it was _cuddles_.

 

And Louis had made him stay overnight spooned in his arms; something which had made Harry melancholy in the following days because he missed it too much.

 

“My ass it’s casual,” Cara accused knowingly. “When do I meet him?”

 

“You don’t,” Harry denied quickly.

 

The denial didn’t appease his friend; if anything, it riled her even more.

 

“Right, I’m popping in to see you at work until I meet this mystery man,” she decided.

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

//

 

“Why’re you so miserable?”

 

Cara looked stunning in black leather jeans and a pretty red top; cropped blonde hair suiting her elfin features.

 

Harry felt like he might have a heart attack from the way his heart was palpitating. He _really_ didn’t want Cara to meet Louis.

 

“I’m not miserable,” he lied. “I just don’t see why you need to be here.”

 

“To meet Louis,” Cara made a comical face. “Obviously.”

 

Harry smiled wanly. He didn’t need Cara messing things up for him. This thing between him and Louis (whatever it might be) would be over soon enough. He didn’t need his meddling friend making it any worse.

 

“Where’s my favourite barman?”

 

Louis' voice carried from the doorway as he swung the door open with a flourish. The patrons knew about them now, they expected Louis to bestow attention on Harry and Harry blushed every single time no matter what.

 

“Fuck off,” he whispered to Cara’s brow-arch.

 

“There you are, Harold!” Louis walked with that pronounced bounce in his step, throwing up the bar divider to stroll behind the bar to greet him.

 

Harry put a hand out to stop him.

 

“I-there’s—Louis!” He ineffectively stammered, wrapped into Louis' arms and kissed before he could quite catch his breath.

 

His chest hitched and then everything felt warm. He relaxed and kissed him back, hands resting gently on his back.

 

“Lou,” he complained quietly.

 

“Yes, Harold?” Louis grinned, happy to have him in his arms it seemed.

 

“I want you to meet a friend of mine,” his lips lifted in one corner sheepishly.

 

“Oh,” Louis stepped away from him and made a show of tiptoeing from behind the bar to stand in front of it, smiling at the blonde girl sat up on the stool. “Hi.”

 

Cara giggled.

 

“Hello!” She greeted, eyeing Harry with a smirk. “Harry’s been keeping you a secret...”

 

Harry flicked a look to Louis nervously. He wasn’t keeping Louis a secret _exactly_ , it was just-

 

“He’s very shy,” Louis winked at Cara. “But I'm Louis. Tomlinson,” he added.

 

She smiled and shook his hand.

 

“Cara. Delavigne,” she also added her surname as an afterthought. "Pool?" She invited quickly before Harry had a chance to speak.

 

He opened his mouth, but Louis agreed to the game and Cara jumped off her stool to grab Louis’ hand, leading him into the corner of the room to play while Harry watched on carefully.

 

//

 

_How long did one pool game take?_

 

Harry huffed out some air, running his fingers into his fringe.

 

Cara cackled loudly at an impression Louis was doing and his heart ached. Louis looked so cute next to Cara. She was six feet and slim while Louis was small and curvy, but he knew now how perfectly he and Louis fitted together.

 

He’d almost gotten to wanting to fit together with him every night (if he allowed himself the wistful desire).

 

And not because Louis owned a beautiful penthouse apartment (although that was an admitted bonus) but because Harry felt like his heart fitted with him too; in the corner of Louis' ginormous one, big enough to house the world’s down-beaten population he was certain.

 

If he wanted to share of course. Which he didn’t.

 

_What were they doing over there?_

He flipped up the counter divide to wipe down the front of the bar, glancing to the  Pool table nonchalantly.

 

Cara spotted him looking and pointed at him with a cross-eyed, tongue-stuck-out face.

 

He pouted and furrowed his brows as a customer moved for a refill.

 

//

 

“What did she say?”

 

Harry and Louis were facing each other on the couch; legs meeting in the middle. Harry had his curled up between Louis', sometimes crossed, sometimes bent at the knee and now straightened out; feet tucked by Louis’ ass cheeks on either side.

 

When he wiggled his toes, Louis smiled to himself. Harry watched him secretly from behind his textbook, not getting as much work done as he had originally planned.

 

When Louis had offered him a lift home he’d told him he still had two hours of studying to do followed by a meagre four hours sleep before his next class. Louis had told him to bring his books so they could still hang out together.

 

Harry had wondered (deep down where his tummy fluttered every time he looked at Louis) whether they’d get distracted into kissing and _more._

 

Louis hadn’t even made a move to kiss him. It was equally impressive as it was worrying.

 

Therefore, he had to find out exactly what Cara had said before he could relax again.

 

“Hm?”

 

Louis bent the corner of his magazine down.

 

“Cara,” Harry clarified. “What did she say?”

 

Louis smiled.

 

“That she’ll kick my balls back into my body if I so much as _think_ about hurting you,” he recounted with far too much lightness for the words spilling from his lips.

 

Harry sat up, folding one leg to balance. Louis resettled his foot beside his knee.

 

“What?” Harry beseeched, closing his books.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

“I like her.”

 

Harry settled his books on the floor beside them and Louis sensed his intention to talk, sliding his  magazine down the back of the couch.

 

“She-” He frowned. “She had no right to say that,” he managed to get the words out; chest heating in anger.

 

“Hey,” Louis leaned forward to wrap gentle fingers around his wrist.  “She's your friend and she cares about you. She has every right,” he smirked.

 

“But-” Harry swallowed heavily, eyes glancing away. “It’s not your responsibility if I'm hurt or not,” he argued.  “If you wanted-” he paused, lip bitten.

 

One of his hands cupped his bent knee, the other was still in Louis’ grip, clasped around his other ankle.

 

“If I wanted what, Harold?” His thumb brushed over Harry’s skin so gently and if Harry closed his eyes he’d liken the stroke to pressure of Louis’ lips when they kissed goodbye in the mornings.

 

“If you wanted...you know...to keep things casual then…then it’s not up to you to protect me, is it?” He questioned, looking into Louis' handsome face.

 

One of his brows lifted only a tiny bit, barely enough to notice, even.

 

“It isn’t?” He asked in a husky voice that Harry might have normally found sexy if his blood wasn’t racing around his veins and his brain wasn’t screaming at him to _shut the fuck up._

 

“Of course not,” Harry swallowed. “People have meaningless sex all the time,” he added, fastening his gaze on the inseam of his jeans where his thighs stretched the material. He caught sight of Louis' fingers around his wrist and twisted his hand to thread their fingers together, but Louis got the wrong idea and slid his away.

 

Harry looked up at him.

 

“Lou?”

 

Louis blinked, shrinking back from him and pulling his legs towards his body. He didn’t meet Harry’s gaze.

 

“I didn’t realise how late it is,” Louis murmured.  “Better drop you at the dorm.”

 

Harry frowned.

 

He hadn’t _planned_ to go back to dorms tonight. He planned to have his four-hour sleep in bed beside Louis with their ankles linked together and their fingers twined.

 

He swallowed, eyes flaring in sudden fear. _He was right, then_. It _was_ only meaningless sex to Louis. And now Louis felt guilty because Cara had called him on it and wasn’t that _exactly what Harry had been afraid of?_

 

 _Fuck_. He would kill Cara tomorrow.

 

He got up slowly, sliding his feet into his vans and pushing his long fingers through his tufted hair. His chest hurt.

 

“It’s okay you know,” he tried to rescue the situation. “If that’s what you want.”

 

Louis didn’t answer him. He just collected his car keys and took him home.

 

//

 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” Cara greeted him.

 

Harry glared at his friend.

 

“ _You_ did.” He accused.

 

She opened her mouth, affronted.

 

“Excuse me? What did I ever do?”

 

“You told Louis not to hurt me!” He half shouted, half huffed.

 

Cara frowned.

 

“Remind me how that’s a bad thing...”

 

She tapped her foot with an arched brow.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

“We were casual, Car,” he shared. “I never said I was unhappy.”

 

Cara folded her arms and straightened her back.

 

“You looked miserable,” she pointed out. “And I know that look. It’s the same look you gave me when I told you that I wouldn’t get you a puppy for Christmas,” she mused. “You want him. And you think he doesn’t want you.”

 

“Not for life,” he stated with an acidic smile which was more of a grimace if truth be told.

 

“Harry, what actually happened?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes.

 

“He told me you warned him not to hurt me. So now he feels responsible for my feelings. Even though I told him that it’s okay if he only wants casual sex...”

 

“That’s actually a good thing,” she pointed out. “Not the casual sex thing, I mean, the thing about him feeling responsible...”

 

“Not if he stops having sex with me,” Harry pointed out with a lift of his own brow.

 

Cara studied him.

 

“He broke it off?” She asked carefully.

 

“No,” Harry denied with a sigh. “But he brought me home and he didn't reply when I kissed his cheek and wished him goodnight.”

 

“Harry-” Cara started, sighed heavily and then lifted her chin. “From some of the things Louis said to me while we played  Pool, I'd guess he wanted completely the opposite of casual sex with you,” she said plainly. “Are you sure you haven’t misread something?”

 

_Completely the opposite of casual sex._

_Harry_ wanted completely the opposite of casual sex.  Not _Louis._

_Right?_

**_It’s not up to you to protect me is it? People have casual sex all the time._ **

 

Harry frowned.

 

Had he—Had Louis--?

 

“Fuck,” he gasped aloud, hand slapping over his mouth belatedly.

 

Cara snorted.

 

“Not my type, H, but I think we can find someone who _is_...”

 

Harry’s eyes flicked to her.

 

“When I was telling him that it’s okay if he wants casual sex he _might_ have thought I was actually saying _I_ wanted casual sex when actually I want-”

 

“Babies and white picket fences,” Cara waved a hand dismissively. “We know. So, tell him,” she suggested sweetly.

 

“That I want his babies?” He frowned at her confusedly.

 

Cara laughed loudly in the hallway, moving them to their next lecture.

 

“I need to be there if _that’s_ what you tell him...”

 

Harry gnawed on his lip and pulled out his phone.

 

//

 

_I think I said something stupid. Something that came out wrong. I don’t want casual sex. I want...well what do you want? I want whatever you want. Please call me._

_//_

Harry hadn’t had a reply to his message. He hadn’t had a call.

 

That was karma for not replying to Louis after they first slept together.

 

He watched the patrons come and go; tidied the snack selection and cleaned down the surfaces.

 

He’d collected the empties and had just stacked the dishwasher when a firm rap of knuckles sounded against the bar to summon service. He popped up, hair curling from where he was letting it grow; a stretched smile on his lips. It slipped a bit when he saw who was there.

 

“Oh.”

 

It was Louis.

 

And _fuck_ _it_ if he didn’t look beautiful.

 

Louis swallowed.

 

“Hi.”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“Hi,” he whispered back, fingers curling around the hem of his t-shirt to tug it down in a nervous gesture.

 

Louis’ gaze dipped to his chest.

 

“Can I have a beer, please?” He asked.

 

And Harry-

 

Harry hadn’t expected _that._

_Okay._

He could do this, he could totally do this. _Fuck_. His hands were shaking already. He went to pick up a pint glass and it rolled on the floor. He huffed and got another one, gritting his teeth and refusing to look at Louis while he worked the pump.

 

Fucking _beautiful_.  For fuck’s sake.

 

And what was this, anyway? A sick game? To remind Harry that Louis was in charge? Harry knew that. Louis ruled the fucking world and Harry couldn’t help being a bit _slow_ sometimes, couldn't help being a bit stupid. But did Louis really have to—

 

“What're you doing?” He stared, annoyed, as Louis jumped up onto a stool.

 

“Sitting down,” he answered bemusedly; all sweetness and light.

 

 _Sweetness and fucking light._  

 

Harry could stalk around there and punch that serene little smile off his lips. Or kiss it off. Whatever.

 

“But-” He swallowed, about to argue that point, about to tell him that he couldn’t sit there because he was a plain _distraction_ in a black t-shirt and tight black jeans.

 

“I’m waiting,” Louis cut over his floundering to add.

 

Harry plopped a beer in front of him; more froth than liquid.

 

“Waiting for what?” He enquired with a lift of his brow.

 

Louis sipped his drink, taking his time to lick his lips and wipe his sticky fingers against the beer towel laid on the bar.

 

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend to finish work...” He said.

 

Harry’s heart dropped out of his chest and smashed on the floor.

 

_What?_

“What?” He gasped.

 

Louis’ mouth fell open, both hands lifting palm forward in sudden surrender.

 

“You!” He quickly clarified. “For fuck’s sake it’s you!”

 

Harry gulped.

 

“Me?”

 

Louis looked nervous.

 

“You-you asked me,” he started quietly. “What I wanted...and it’s you,” he swallowed. “I want you to be my boyfriend. I want to be your boyfriend, too...”

 

Harry stared at him, blinking only once before he moved toward the bar-flap, coursing his fingers into his hair as he loped the distance between them, pausing between Louis’ thighs when he opened them to Harry’s approach.

 

Harry leaned forward, forcing Louis to lean back. He laid his big hands gently against his back and pressed an earnest kiss against the top of his lips.

 

“Tell me you mean it,” he whispered, forehead resting against Louis’ with his eyes screwed shut.

 

He felt Louis’ lips coaxing his into another kiss; thumbs pressing into his cheeks reverently.

 

“I mean it,” Louis murmured against his lips.

 

Harry smiled; heartbreakingly painful as he kissed Louis back; arms wrapping around him this time to squeeze him tight.

 

He pulled away reluctantly.

 

“Some of us have to work around here,” Harry couldn’t curb his irrepressible smile as he said it.

 

//

 

“So, Harold...”

 

Harry still wasn’t used to it.

 

The man with the beautiful smile came to the bar with the sole purpose of seeing _him_ ; to make him smile and sometimes when it was quiet, to kiss him or sneak in a quick cuddle.

 

It still took his heart a minute to catch up.

 

“So,” he lifted a brow and attempted to pour his best pint yet. His hands tremored only slightly from being the centre of Louis' attention.

 

“Can you get next Saturday night off work?” Louis wondered, splitting open the bag of crisps Harry slid onto the bar for him.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

He’d only dropped two shifts since meeting Louis; making up any other time he’d usually spend working. When he’d told Louis he didn’t have time to date, he hadn’t been exaggerating.

 

“I kind of need the money,” he murmured, wiping down the counter.

 

Louis sipped his beer, slowly licking his lips.

 

“What if I spot your wages?”

 

Harry blinked, mortification rushing over him hotly. One day he'd be a successful lawyer who commanded a decent income. He'd never had to ask for help before. He wanted to be able to pay his own way.

 

“No, it’s okay,” he mumbled. “I can manage. What is it you want to do?”

 

He felt Louis watching him while he wiped glasses and stacked them away.

 

“I’ve been invited to this fashion thing,” Louis told him. “Thought you might like to come as my date.”

 

_Might like to come._

Harry’s breath caught. The way Louis made him come he was pretty sure he'd like to.

 

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

 

Louis smirked.

 

“I can get my pals in the fitting team to measure you for a suit,” he winked.

 

Harry straightened up, smoothing down his t-shirt.

 

“Okay,” he agreed, upper teeth capturing his lower lip pensively.

 

Louis' eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled.

 

“Great. Brilliant. You can meet my work lot if you fancy it.”

 

Harry smiled.

 

“Okay.”

 

//

 

Oh god.

 

Oh _god._

“Louis,” Harry begged throatily, his head thrown back as he gasped. Louis' hand was wrapped tight around him, stroking insanely slow. Slow enough to burst a vessel in his brain from the anticipation.

 

“Shh,” Louis pressed close; fingers sliding into his hair.

 

Harry frowned, biting his lip as he trembled. Louis had him cornered in the changing room; a pretty rose-pink unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely off his torso while his thighs tested the seams in the trousers Louis' colleague Jethro had picked out for him.

 

Everything felt hot.

 

Louis' lips felt hot when he captured them and kissed him as slowly as Louis stroked, tongue dipping into his mouth only leisurely; teasing kitten licks that made Louis chase back.

 

Harry grasped a good handful of his butt in retaliation.

 

“Can you take these off now?” He whispered of Louis' fitted work wear.

 

“Some of us have to work, remember?” Louis quipped of Harry’s visit during his working hours.

 

Harry smiled, pupil-blown eyes meeting Louis'.

 

“Hope you don’t give this service to everyone,” he mumbled; breath hitching when Louis changed his grip.

 

“Want you to make me filthy, love,” Louis told him.

 

“But wh-what about the clothes?” Harry’s eyes widened, swollen lips parting in shock.

 

Louis kissed him; fingers burrowing into his hair to tug ever so gently; angling Harry's face to deepen the kiss while he flicked his wrist sharply.

 

“ _Y-you_ -!” Harry gasped, hips jerking.

 

“Yeah?” Louis murmured it against his cheek as Harry dipped his head to watch; to marvel over the way Louis' hand barely fit around him but his body was so, so close to breaking point.

 

He swallowed; lifting his face to look into Louis' eyes as the hot velvet sensation of his orgasm snaked through his body. His muscles tightened; poised and ready to release.

 

When everything felt overwhelming and he wanted to squeeze his eyes shut he forced himself to keep them open, lashes flickering as he kept steady contact with soothing, intense blue.

 

Louis kissed him as he came undone; lingering, loving kisses accompanying his own jerky; spasmodic movements. It was perfect and Harry wanted the euphoria to last forever.  He wanted Louis' hand around him _always._

“Harold?” Louis murmured, surveying the damage.

 

Harry leaned forward to wrap his arms around Louis' shoulders, shaky with the intensity of his orgasm.

 

He felt Louis' hand stroke over his back and remembered that Louis needed to get off, too. He slipped to his knees to see to that.

 

//

 

“I really didn’t need three suits,” Harry threw the shopping bags gently on his dorm bed; his room-mate not present.

 

Louis smiled indulgently.

 

“I might have more shows to bring you to...”

 

“It's a show?” Harry turned to ask then, not having been given the details.

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“You’re the only person I know who doesn’t have the fashion calendar committed to memory,” Louis mused.

 

Harry stared at him; panicking.

 

“I can learn,” he promised.

 

Louis shook his head and wandered closer, grasping his hand.

 

“I like it,” he promised softly. “And it’s London Fashion week,” he added with a sparkle in his blue eyes that gave away his passion for his work. “I’m taking you to one of the dinner parties we get invited to ever year.”

 

“Oh,” Harry hummed, looking down at him. “Are-Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah, I am,” Louis squeezed his hand.

 

Harry nodded, a nervous fluttering starting in his belly. Louis tugged him into a wrapped up kiss before his dorm buddy barged in and broke them apart.

 

Alex ducked his head and threw himself on his bed while Harry walked Louis to the door.

 

“Pick you up at eight?” Louis checked of their weekend plans.

 

Harry nodded and kissed him softly.

 

//

 

“Shit...” Harry gasped as his champagne leaped from his glass and splattered onto the front of someone’s expensive- looking jacket.

One glance upwards told him that he’d picked the wrong show to be spilling drinks at. _Fucking Tom Hardy! Of all people!_

“Oh, shit,” he added, distressed. “I’m so sorry,” he reached for something to mop up the spill but _Tom Hardy_ was smiling at him and brushing the wine off with competent fingers.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom assured. “Plenty of leggy brunettes spill their wine on me,” he winked.

 

Harry blinked.

 

_Fuck._

Was Tom Hardy flirting with him?

 

“I’m not a model,” was what he decided to say.

 

It made Tom laugh.

 

“You should think about it,” he mused, brown eyes travelling over Harry’s height assessingly.  “You’ve got the stature.”

 

Harry smiled impishly.

 

“But not the coordination.”

 

Tom smiled back.

 

“I’m Tom, by the way. Tom Hardy. “

 

“Harry Styles,” Harry responded politely.

 

“You here alone?”

 

Harry shook his head, immediately glancing around for his boyfriend.

 

“My boyfriend works at Tom Ford,” he shared.

 

“My favourite designer,” Tom nodded, impressed. “What do you do?”

 

“Law degree,” Harry divulged with a tired but proud smile. “Second year.”

 

“Send me your card once you’re registered,” Tom grinned. “Could use a guy like you to get me out of trouble...” He joked. “Or into it?” He added questioningly.

 

“Harold, there you are,” Louis huffed; hand sliding into the dip of Harry’s lower back.  It didn’t rest there safely, instead his palm settled roundly on his ass.

 

“Here I am,” Harry swallowed, glancing at Louis who looked achingly gorgeous in a well fitted navy jacket and trousers with a classic white shirt and brogues.

 

Harry had picked perhaps the safest of his suits, black slim fit trousers and a Blue dinner jacket with a black lapel which had a deep blue dotted pattern which matched the tone of Louis' two-piece.

 

“And here’s a friend you’ve made,” Louis smiled at the taller, broader man facing them.

 

“Tom Hardy,” Tom reached out to shake Louis' hand. “Just trying to talk your boyfriend into working for me, actually.”

 

“Oh,” Louis smiled wanly.  “He’s not a qualified lawyer yet.”

 

“Think I could find him a few jobs,” Tom grinned at Harry and Harry stepped subtly closer to Louis; who in turn slipped his arm around his waist.

 

“Is that so?” Louis enquired.

 

“Oh, I’ve got to run,” Tom excused.  “Nice to meet you both...”

 

Louis lifted his brows.

 

“Yeah, lovely,” he mused.

 

Tom moved to shake Harry’s hand and dashed off with a boyish grin. Louis knew why when he turned to find Harry staring at a business card.

 

“He just gave me his number.. .”

 

“Don’t brag about it,” Louis teased.

 

Harry tucked the card into the front breast pocket of Louis' jacket.

 

“You can look after it,” he decided.

 

Louis guided Harry towards the dining room.

 

“Let’s have dinner,” he suggested. “I’m starving.”

 

//

 

“Shit, I am _so_ sorry!” Harry jumped up, his elbow having collided with Louis' boss' boss and jogging her arm enough to spill her drink into her lap; over the skirt of her very opulent purple silk dress.

 

Elouise merely snorted, grasping his arm.

 

“It doesn’t matter darling!”

 

Harry glanced at Louis.

 

“Should we be getting back?” Louis asked gently.

 

“No!” Harry denied quickly.  “I’m fine, I’m just- I’m tired. I haven’t slept much; I have a paper due and-“

 

Louis cupped his cheek.

 

“Want to stay over at mine tonight?”

 

Harry swallowed. He looked into Louis' eyes.

 

“Okay.”

 

Louis leaned over to kiss him.

 

//

 

“Nice boy you got there, Lou!”

 

“Take care, Harry!”

 

“Oops,” Harry untangled his feet and concentrated on walking, Louis leading him through the crowds.

 

He _may_ have had too much champagne. _Maybe._

“Will you get sacked because of me?” Harry wondered randomly once they were in the taxi on the way home.

 

“Sacked?” Louis derided. “No such luck. They loved you.”

 

Harry shook his head.

 

“That’s not true.  Eric didn’t.”

 

“You stabbed his thigh with your fork, Harold,” Louis muttered. “What did you expect?”

 

“It was an accident,” Harry pouted.

 

“Elouise liked you and she’s in charge,” Louis assured.

 

Harry curled over in the seat, head nudging onto Louis' shoulder.

 

“Lou, m'sorry. “

 

Louis smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

 

“Shh, love.”

 

//

 

Harry crept out on Sunday morning; purchased two sacks of doughnuts and the largest cup of caramel coffee to deposit on Louis’ breakfast table before he went back to dorms.

 

His body felt weird; kind of itchy and achy without Louis’ in contact with his somehow. He liked waking up with him; curled protected in his arms or sprawled overlapping him on his big bed.

 

Louis didn’t seem to mind waking up to a mouthful of Harry’s hair or his body pinned down by his heavy weight. Some guys hadn’t liked Harry’s sleeping habits.

 

So it wasn’t his drunken snoring or his clingy cuddling that concerned him. It was how much wine he’d spilled and _who_ he’d spilled it _over_.

 

_Shit._

Tom Hardy might forgive him a little misplaced alcohol but would Louis' boss? And actually, would _Louis?_ He'd taken Harry as his date, not so he could get drunk and offend everyone he worked with.

 

Harry’s tummy twisted.

 

Louis would probably break up with him now. He definitely shouldn't have drank the champagne.

 

//

 

“Where d'you go?”

 

Harry answered his mobile phone to Louis' inbound call around one sentence from the end of his paper.

 

“School,” Harry mumbled.  “Got a paper due tomorrow.”

 

“I miss you,” Louis complained mildly.

 

Harry rolled into his back.

 

“I miss you, too.”

 

“Can I come over?” Louis asked.

 

Harry swallowed.  Did Louis really miss him? Did he remember _all_ of last night? He hadn’t been back to work to understand the full consequences of Harry's drunken actions.

 

Should Harry let him come over? Make the most of their last happy night together? His paper was done and all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe he could do it with Louis in his arms.

 

“Sure, Lou,” he agreed, sitting up to tidy up his half of the room.

 

//

 

He ached a little.

 

Louis had taken him against the bathroom counter; the echoes of their cries bounding around the walls and the mirrors adding something almost dirty  about what they’d done.

 

Louis was asleep now and Harry watched him; wistfulness threading through him. If only he could have this view every day.

 

He smirked; imagining himself studying for his final exams at Louis' house with his brand of affection a constant distraction.

 

He curled up next to him on the bed and let his body settle into sleep.

 

//

 

“What a day!”

 

Louis plopped onto a barstool with a sigh.

 

Harry froze, sliding him a look out of the sides of his eyes.

 

“Bad day?” He wondered.

 

Louis curled over onto the bar top, resting his head in his arms.

 

“Busy. Everyone wants something during London Fashion Week,” he lamented.

 

Harry cleared his throat, fiddling with the towel tucked into his jeans.

 

“How was Elouise and Everyone?”

 

Louis smirked.

 

“Got a thing for the big boss, Harold?”

 

“No,” he blushed. “Just asking.”

 

Louis grinned.

 

“Didn’t see her today,” he admitted.  “Busy pandering to every diva's needs...”

 

“Can I come to yours when my shift ends?” He asked quickly; sucking in a relieved breath at his extended time with Louis.

 

“You don’t need to ask,” Louis chided softly.

 

“Okay,” Harry smiled.

 

Louis smiled back.

 

//

 

Louis finally noticed Harry’s anxiety on Friday; a week after the dinner.

 

“What's up?” He asked when Harry flinched when he leaned in to kiss his cheek after Harry got in his car.

 

“How was work?” Harry stared at him avidly.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

“Same as usual.”

 

“And nobody said anything?” He checked.

 

Louis frowned.

 

“Why would somebody say something?”

 

Harry swallowed and flicked his eyes away.

 

“About me. You know. Being drunk.”

 

Louis started the car.

 

“I’m taking you for dinner now,” he said.

 

//

 

Harry chewed his lower lip nervously, knee bobbing under the table.

 

“What are you getting?” Louis asked.

 

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head.

 

“Nothing?” Louis questioned with concern. “Don’t you feel well? Why didn’t you say?”

 

“I feel fine,” he promised. “But this is a break up dinner and I’m not hungry.”

 

Louis’ eyes slowly focused on his.

 

“A what?” He asked.

 

“A break up dinner,” Harry repeated.

 

Louis stared.

 

“You’re breaking up with me?”

 

Harry gaped.

 

“No! God, no,” he winced. “You,” he breathed. “You’re breaking up with me.”

 

Louis blinked.

 

“I am?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry murmured.  “Because I got drunk and spilt wine on your boss and stabbed your head stylist...”

 

Louis let out a crack of laughter.

 

“What?”

 

Harry glared at him.

 

“It’s not funny.”

 

Louis sobered, folding up his napkin.

 

“No it’s not,” he stood up and moved around the table, putting his hand out. “C'mon,” he invited softly.

 

Harry frowned.

 

“Thought you were hungry.”

 

Louis waited, hand outstretched.

 

“C'mon, Harry.” He begged.

 

Harry got up slowly and took his hand.

 

//

 

“You didn’t have to-“ Harry moaned as Louis’ tongue tunnelled to slide into him and then broadened out, flicking on the out-stroke.

 

Louis didn’t respond, lathing the roughness of his tongue around his rim.

 

Harry gasped; ass lifting to escape the onslaught. Louis dug his elbows either side of his thighs to pin him down.

 

“I get it,” he laboured over his words, thick and deep toned. “I get it okay, Lou?”

 

“Don’t think you do,” Louis licked his lips and reached for Harry’s favourite strawberry lube.

 

“I do!” He begged eagerly. “Please.”

 

Louis smirked; slicking his fingers up with a mischievous glint.

 

Harry wriggled; front down on the bed; hips supported by a pillow leaving him feeling marooned somewhat. Marooned and very, very well cared for. Loved, even.

 

He gasped again as Louis parted his fingers inside him; tongue flicking between his digits. It was hot and wet and really, really good.

 

When Louis eased into him it was seamless; a natural movement that Harry sighed in relief at. _Finally._

“I don’t want to break up with you,” Louis promised, curling his arms around Harry’s sides to press his palms against his chest and his lips against his shoulder. “Want _this._ ” he whispered as he flicked his hips.

 

“Me too...oh God, me too...”

 

“Always,” Louis added more quietly as he sank into him; staying settled deep. “Harry, I want this, always...”

 

“Me too.”

 

Louis eased out of him and Harry twisted with a frown; a shiver of insecurity washing over him.

 

Louis shifted; wrapped Harry’s legs around his waist and leaned in to kiss him; gentle lips and strawberry flavoured tongue. He looked into Harry’s eyes before he thrust this time; Harry's muscles clutching around him to keep him there.

 

Harry felt the warmth bloom over him; replacing any doubt.

 

Later; when  their were limbs were tangled together and both were soft with exhaustion, Harry smiled.

 

“You’d really want me even if I got you sacked?”

 

Harry’s fingers played with Louis' fringe as he looked up from where his head was cradled on Harry’s shoulder.

 

“I want you to matter what.”

 

Harry blinked.

 

“Me too,” his lips curled in the corners before his dimple pooled, lips parting to release a laugh as he curled up in mirth; Louis' fingertips finding his weak spot.

 

“If you say that one more time...”

 

“Lou?”

 

Louis huffed.

 

“What, Harold?”

 

Harry nibbled his lip. He flicked shy eyes to Louis and then his brows furrowed as they shifted away.

 

“Nothing,” he pressed a tender kiss to Louis' lips.

 

Louis’ arms tightened around him in response.

 

//

 

“So, how’s Louis?” Cara asked Harry two weeks later when Harry felt practically fried from his studying regime.

 

His hair was a soft, flyaway mess and he looked like a bum in jeans ripped at the knees and a grey hoodie pulled over his usual t-shirt.  He didn’t smell bad because he was robotically taking showers between school and work but he felt dirty somehow. He felt exhausted.

 

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him,” Harry answered Cara's question with a guilty flush.

 

“Why not?” She frowned. “Has he done something stupid?”

 

Harry stared at his friend. Louis was the sun, he couldn’t be stupid if he tried. Harry on the other hand was monumentally dumb.

 

“We’ve got exams, remember?” He arched a brow. “I don’t even get time to eat and sleep most days...”

 

Cara resettled her bag strap on her shoulder, stepping closer to curl her hand around his arm caringly.

 

“H, you’ve got to take care of yourself,” she murmured; eyes observing his jittery hands and pale face. “Do you still see him at work?”

 

“He went to New York for a few days,” He swallowed. “He’ll be back next week.”

 

Cara blinked.

 

“You’re avoiding him,” she stated astutely.

 

“No,” he denied with a pout. “I’m just busy and he’s away and-“

 

“And you love him,” she finished for him gently, arching her brow when Harry’s gaze found hers.

 

“I’m so stupid,” he whispered, distraught.

 

Cara laughed; then moved to cuddle Harry when he shot her an accusing glare.

 

“Why is that stupid? You’ve been boyfriends for a while now, it’s not as though he doesn’t feel the same way.”

 

Harry sighed.

 

“I mean...we don’t know that he _does_ ,” he argued.

 

Cara nearly laughed again, schooling her face into a smirk.

 

“Does he talk about a future together?”

 

_I want this, always._

”Kinda,” Harry considered, setting into a slow, loping walk to his next class.

 

“So why do you think he doesn’t feel the same?”

 

Harry couldn’t explain to his perfectly beautiful best friend how he felt without sounding idiotic. Cara was bright and funny and looked great _all_ the time so she could command men and women as she pleased. Harry didn’t have that advantage.

 

New York was full of beautiful people. Louis' _life_ was full of beautiful people. Harry still hadn’t worked out what made Louis ask _him_ out that first time when he came into contact with _models_ every day.

 

“I’m just waiting for him to realise that I’m not the best he can get,” he mumbled.

 

Cara stopped dead in the hallway; forcing Harry to stop ~~,~~ too, and face her. His fingers grooved into his wild fringe; lips parting to sigh, “What?” quietly into the hall.

 

“Are you serious?” She asked keenly; her usually harsh tone reserved.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

“Yeah, I’m serious. Look at me. I can’t afford new clothes and every time he takes me on a date I have an anxiety attack about money and the guy has his pick of hundreds of stunning guys to go out with so yeah,” He directed his intense, furrow-browed look at her.  “Forgive me for feeling a little bit out of my depth.”

 

Cara's face softened and she walked forward to grasp his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze.

 

“We have to get to class,” she stated. “But I’m not done with you.”

 

Harry gripped her hand with a sense of relief washing over him; loosening up his limbs and easing the tightness in his chest. Maybe Cara wouldn’t think he was an idiot after all. _Maybe._

//

 

“Harold!” Louis' smile blinded him as their video call connected; Louis' picture frozen for a second until motion resumed, his blue eyes fixing at the top of the screen to view Harry.

 

“Hi,” he smiled, long fingers threaded together on his knees.

 

“It's 3am here,” Louis pushed back his fringe, lips tugging to one side. “Probably look like shit...”

 

Harry watched him thoughtfully.

 

“You look cute,” he mused.

 

_Kind of like when you get up and get dressed just to drop me at college._

Louis huffed and rolled his eyes at the compliment but his lips quirked a bit in happiness. His eyes roamed the parts of Harry within the camera frame- face and chest.

 

“You okay?” Louis asked.

 

Harry nodded.

 

He was really good. It was ten o'clock and he had two papers to write before he had to be up at six to squeeze in a jog before his first lecture. 

 

Louis tilted his head.

 

“You sure?”

 

Harry swallowed. He slid a finger into the tear in his jeans, stroking his leg hair in comfort.

 

“I’m good,” he lied.

 

“I’ll be home in two days,” Louis promised. “Niall's picking me up, he said you could go with him if you wanted,” he added with a lift of his brows hopefully.

 

Harry’s chest ached. He wished he could get Louis from the airport himself but he couldn’t afford a car right now. He looked at Louis on the other side of the screen- _on the other side of the world_ \- and he wondered how long they’d make it.

 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed the word softly; like a passing prayer.

 

_I’m sorry. Don’t leave me._

“What for?” Louis wondered, smiling bemusedly. “You can’t come along? Too busy being a legal eagle?” He winked.

 

Harry smiled sadly.

 

“More for just being me, really,” he shrugged, coursing his fingers through his hair nervously.

 

Louis blinked at him, confused.

 

“Harold, what’s going on?” He asked. “Has something happened?”

 

Harry shook his head, fingers sliding onto his laptop touchpad to navigate the screen.

 

“Everything's fine,” he forced the words out of his closed-up throat. “I have to go,” he excused. 

 

Louis looked lost as he ended the video call.

 

//

 

Harry yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he shifted his ass slightly against the back counter; waiting for his next customer to come to the bar.

 

He’d snuck his study book in and rested it under the counter but every time he tried to focus on the words; his vision blurred and he felt dizzy with the need to sleep.

 

 _Be a lawyer,_ they said. _It’ll be fun,_ they said.

 

His lashes rested softly on his cheeks; arms crossing as he was lulled into  a light snooze.

 

“Hey, bar-keep,” came a London-accented voice, amused and cheeky.

 

Harry startled, eyes popping open and arms dropping as he pushed himself off the back of the bar.

 

“Um. How can I-“

 

He froze. _Tom Hardy_ was in his bar. _His bar._ Out of all the bars in the world.

 

“Oh, hi,” he greeted awkwardly with a frog-like smile.

 

Tom grinned.

 

“I didn’t get that call,” he accused fondly.

 

Harry swallowed.

 

“How did you find me?” He wondered nervously.

 

Tom laughed, eyes shining.

 

“I didn’t stalk every University to find you, don’t worry,” he smirked, then leaned back to point at a group of fellas crowded around one of the small tables.

 

Harry vaguely remembered serving one of the guys in the group. Tom must have only just got there.

 

“Oh. Your friends come here,” he nodded. “What can I get you?”

 

“Beer, please,” Tom ordered.

 

Harry went about it, placing a perfectly pulled pint on the counter.

 

“That’s three-fifty,” Harry charged.

 

Tom opened his wallet and gave him a twenty.

 

“You have a tip jar?” He asked as Harry rung up his change.

 

“No, we just pocket what we make in tips,” he shared as he held out the money.

 

“Keep it,” Tom winked. “For books or whatever.”

 

Harry arched a brow and stepped back, fingering the loose threads in the knees of his jeans.

 

“Or new jeans,” he quipped.

 

Tom straightened from leaning on the bar to sip his drink.

 

“I could take you shopping you know,” he suggested. “They give me stuff for free.”

 

Harry gave him a wan smile.

 

“Maybe another time.”

 

Tom rested his elbows on the bar top once more, sliding the glass onto the surface.

 

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

 

“Study, work, more study,” Harry described his planned weekend.

 

“Not seeing that boyfriend of yours?”

 

“He’s in New York,” Harry murmured.

 

Tom’s eyes went over him slowly.

 

“He didn’t take you with him?”

 

“I can’t go anywhere right now,” Harry explained. “I have exams coming up. In fact I’m freaking out enough as it is, I’d hate to have to cancel plans with Louis just to pass my exam.”

 

Tom nodded, pursing his lips.

 

“But an hour away might do you some good.”

 

“Well, he’s not here, so...” He smiled tightly; chest smarting from his own avoidance of discussing his worries with Louis last night. 

 

“I could get you ten pairs of jeans and a bunch of tops for nothing,” Tom coaxed. “No obligations.”

Harry pressed his lips together, tiredness tugging at his shoulders.

 

“You’d look really nice for Louis for when he gets back,” Tom winked.

 

And that... _that_ was tempting.

 

Harry looked past Tom’s shoulder to view the table where his friends were seated and none of them seemed concerned with what the two of them were talking about. Surely if Tom’s motives were anything other than friendly then the guys would be watching them avidly just like Cara might in a similar circumstance.

 

And he wanted to look nice for Louis without taking advantage of his job at a fashion house.

 

“An hour,” he stated, meeting Tom’s gaze hesitantly.

 

Tom smiled.

 

“Promise.”

 

//

 

“Fuck!” Harry huffed happily, shouldering his way into his dorm room.

 

“Maybe we should have paid that runner to bring the stuff back, too,” Tom dumped his handfuls of bags by Harry’s bed while Harry tossed himself into it; front first.

 

“I’m never moving again,” he grasped his covers in gentle fingers, tilting his face to the side to survey Tom’s movement.

 

He hovered with his hands in his jacket pockets; right by Harry’s feet, eyes clinging to the back of his thighs and roaming over him with a rueful smirk.

 

“I’m not going to complain if you choose to stay there,” he said.

 

Harry lifted his head, torso twisting to address his comment and remind him he was _taken_ ; but a loud, sing-song voice echoing down the hall stopped him.

 

“Harold!” Louis sang as he walked. “Oh, pretty boyfriend of mine...”

 

Louis halted sharply in the doorway of the room.

 

“Hi,” he frowned as his eyes went over the scene.

 

Harry scrabbled off the bed.

 

“You’re back,” he stated, flicking his eyes to Tom before meeting Louis'.

 

His hair was soft and a bit messy like he'd been sleeping on the flight back and hadn’t fingered it through. Harry’s eyes dropped to his chest. He was wearing a hoodie that Harry had left at his house once; dark green and cosy. His tummy rippled at the sight; at wanting to strip it off slowly while they kissed.

 

Louis shifted from foot to foot.

 

“I’m back,” he repeated Harry’s statement, eyes going between the two men. “What’s all this?”

 

“Shopping,” Harry blurted. “Um. Tom dropped by the bar and he had a free shopping deal, so we-“

 

“I can get you free stuff,” Louis stepped further into the room, chin lifting.

 

 _Shit_.

 

Harry closed his eyes with a wince, breath catching. _Holy shit, what had he done?_

 

“I know, it’s just-“

 

“It was meant to be a surprise for you,” Tom chipped in, glancing at Harry. 

 

Louis stared at him.

 

“Right. Well, thanks for looking after my boyfriend while I was away...” He clipped, brow lifting coolly.

 

Tom smiled at them both.

 

“I’m off, then,” he finally shifted to leave. “See you around,” he added before he squeezed by Louis to exit the room.

 

When Louis didn’t move to shut the door; Harry’s tummy clenched.

 

“I had holes in my jeans,” he whispered, beseeching Louis with his eyes.

 

Louis was still looking at him like he couldn’t work out who Harry was.

 

“I offered to help you out,” Louis murmured.  “Guess it was just _my_ help you didn’t want,” he accused with a thick swallow.

 

Harry frowned, starting forward.

 

“Lou,” he begged.  “That’s not- _please_ ,” he reached for him as he turned to go.

 

“I knew something felt weird,” Louis twisted to say, lips pressing into an unhappy line; a grimace if you knew him well enough to tell (which Harry did). “Now I know why.”

 

“It wasn’t that,” Harry promised as Louis shoved his hands in his pockets, turning his shoulder to block Harry from reaching for him.

 

Louis choked out an amused huff.

 

“I came back early to ask you what was wrong,” he added.  “I know you don’t like talking about stuff on video call so I just left yesterday morning and jumped on the next plane to get here.”

 

Harry quickened his pace to keep up with Louis as he stormed down the dorm hallways to find his way out.

 

“We just went shopping, that’s all,” Harry promised.  “I don’t like taking things from you, you know that, you know that I-“

 

“That you apologised for nothing?” Louis inserted pointedly. “Or _not_ nothing,” he tagged on acerbically.

 

“Hey!” Harry frowned as they pushed through the building door and spilled onto the grass outside the front of the building.

 

Louis marched across the lawn as Harry struggled to catch up; tired body arguing against his intentions.

 

“I'm not cheating on you,” Harry huffed as he stumbled to a stop in front of Louis' car door.

 

Louis lifted his eyes to look him straight in the eye.

 

“Then why are you sorry?” Louis asked openly.

 

Harry swallowed and slid his eyes away; looking around furtively.

 

“I’ll tell you another time,” he vouched.  “Just please come back inside,” he begged. “ _Please_.”

 

Louis dropped his gaze and pursed his lips, rolling back on his heels.

 

“I’m really jet-lagged and I think it’s best I just go and sleep that off,” he rasped.

 

Harry felt his heart clench in his chest. He stepped away from the car door.

 

“Okay,” he nodded, pulling his jacket sleeves over his hands.

 

Louis opened the door and paused.

 

“Talk to you later, Harry,” he whispered and Harry’s heart broke at hearing Louis call him by his name instead of his fond nickname of _Harold_.

 

//

 

“You look awful.” Cara slapped her bag down beside Harry in the cafeteria; sliding a sandwich and drink across to him smoothly.

 

Harry went to argue with her generosity but thought better of it, whispering a grateful “Thank you” instead.

 

“And thanks,” he sighed. “I feel awful.”

 

“Flu?” She checked.

 

He shook his head, peeling at the crust of the sandwich thoughtfully.

 

“I didn’t talk to Louis,” he admitted.

 

Cara smiled.

 

“It's still early days,” she bolstered. “You’ll open up to him when you trust him more.”

 

“He thinks I’m cheating on him,” he added wryly.

 

Cara choked on her sugar free Coke.

 

“What?! With who?”

 

“Tom Hardy,” Harry supplied, then muttered, “Don’t ask,” with a roll of his eyes.

 

“Tom _Hardy?!_ ” Cara gasped. “How?”

 

“I met him at a fashion party that Louis took me to. He gave me his number but I never called him. And now Louis thinks I was being weird because of _Tom._ ”

 

“Why don’t you just tell him?” She asked plainly, twisting her can in circles on the table.

 

Harry chewed his sandwich robotically; swallowing heavily.

 

“He hasn’t called me since he got back.”

 

“So?” Cara shrugged. “Have you called him?”

 

“Eighteen times,” Harry whispered, ducking his chin.

 

“Wow,” Cara mused. “That’s dedicated. “

 

“Yeah and he hasn’t picked up so I take it that he doesn’t _want_ to talk to me so-“

 

“So you’re giving up?” She narrowed her eyes accusingly.

 

“No,” he mumbled. “But I can’t _make him_ talk.”

 

“You can make him listen,” she argued. “Go to his house and make him listen.”

 

“But then I have to tell him how I really feel,” Harry complained.

 

Cara lifted a brow.

 

“Would you rather date Tom Hardy?”

 

“Fuck, no,” he whispered, distraught.

 

“Then you gotta man up,” she instructed. “Tell him _everything._ ”

 

Harry covered his face with his hands and willed the world to go away.

 

//

 

“Hi,” Harry’s hands were dug into his jacket pockets when Louis opened his door.

 

“What are you doing here, Harry?” Louis narrowed his eyes accusingly.

 

“Apologising,” he admitted; then when Louis went to slam the door he untucked one hand to press against it, wedging the toe of his Van into the gap.

 

“I'm-“ he swallowed. _Fuck._ “Actually I came to say that I'm in love with you,” he looked Louis right in the eye as his heart threatened to leap from his chest comic-book style.

 

Louis paused, frowning, sad blue eyes dipping to Harry’s chest.  He had on his oldest ripped t-shirt, one of his favourites because Louis had poked his fingers into the holes once when they'd been laid together.

 

“You’re—what?” Louis asked.

 

Harry smiled; weakly since he barely had the energy to stand. He'd taken his exams that morning and he had nothing left but the feeling in his heart.

 

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated bravely; with a stronger voice. “And I’m not sorry because of Tom,” he added. “Although I _am_ sorry about that too; but not because I’m cheating on you with him,” he sighed. “Because I'm not. And I never wanted to. I just wanted to look nice without taking advantage of you.”

 

Louis stared at him.

 

“I just wanted-“ Harry opened his mouth to start talking again.

 

“Come here,” Louis opened the door fully; and opened his arms.

 

Harry moved into the porch to curl the smaller man close; lips pressing earnestly against his hair.

 

“It's you,” Harry whispered.  “You’re—well you’re _it_ for me,” he promised. 

 

Louis pulled away a bit to look him in the eye.

 

“I love you too, Harold,” he confessed. “But I still don’t understand why you’re sorry.”

 

Harry swallowed and nodded.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

Louis shut the door behind him.

 

//

 

Once Harry sank into the sofa; his tiredness swept over him. He yawned three times waiting for Louis to bring in the tea he’d gone to make.

 

He felt dizzy, leaning to the side to prop himself against the back of the sofa as he fought the heaviness of his eyelids but he didn’t win the battle; his body slouching in its new comfortable position.

 

“Here we go, Harold,” Louis bounced into the room with a tray holding two mugs and a plate of cake.  “Oh,” he murmured as Harry’s lashes twitched a little, lips parting to let out a raspy sigh.

 

Louis quietly rested the tray on the table and reached for the blanket folded over the back of the sofa, settling beside Harry to reposition him more comfortably on his back.  He arranged the blanket over him carefully and smiled when Harry folded his arms and twisted to snuggle into Louis' warmth; legs curling up in the space left.

 

“Sleepy baby,” Louis murmured as his fingers threaded through Harry's clean, messy hair.

 

Harry’s hum only made Louis want to curl him into his arms.

 

//

 

Harry woke slowly; the crisp sound of pages turning working into his subconscious. When he blinked himself awake, he found his head cushioned on Louis' thigh and his body draped in a warm blanket.

 

“Hey,” he rubbed his eye sleepily. “What time is it?”

 

“Just after six,” Louis shifted the  magazine he’d been flicking through to look at him. “I ordered a pizza in for seven thirty.”

 

Harry shifted, trying to sit up and swing his legs around. He settled for stretching them out over the arm of the sofa.

 

“I have to work,” He said. “In fact I’m meant to be starting now, so...”

 

“I called John and told him you won’t be in tonight,” Louis shared. “I gave him the number of a friend of mine who's been looking for bar work.. .”

 

Harry frowned, head tipping back to look at Louis from his laid position.

 

“Don’t lose me my shifts,” he grumbled.

 

Louis sighed, placing the  magazine aside.

 

“How much do your dorms cost, Harry?”

 

Harry shook his head and pursed his lips, pulling himself to sit upright.

 

“We're not doing this,” he mumbled.

 

“What if it was Tom offering?” Louis asked pointedly.

 

“Then I’d still say no,” Harry assured. “I can manage by myself.”

 

Louis curled a hand around his thigh caringly.

 

“Can you stop lying to me now that you know I love you?”

 

Harry glanced away.

 

“I’m not-“

 

Louis shifted, twisting to cup Harry’s cheek.

 

“You’re exhausted, Harold. And you told me you don’t have time to date,” he mused. “Everyone needs a little love...”

 

Harry shook his head, scared tears coming to his eyes.

 

“The reason I’m sorry Louis, is because you can do so much better than me,” he posed. “There must be a million wealthy guys who ask you out and then there's me ,” Harry huffed derisively.

 

Louis stood up only to slip carefully between Harry’s knees to perch on the edge of the coffee table; taking Harry’s hands in his own.

 

“Do you know how many times I visited the bar before I got Liam to ask for your snack selection?”

 

Harry blurted out a huff of laughter at the reminder of Liam’s little miscommunication.

 

“No,” he lied.

 

“I came in _twenty eight_ times,” Louis smiled tightly. “A whole month of sending my mate to the bar because I was too fucking scared to come and ask you out...”

 

“But-“

 

“And I’ve worked in fashion for six years,” Louis added. “Never wanted to ask out a guy as much as you. Which—not my smoothest moment, may I add.”

 

Harry cleared his throat. “The threesome or the chips?” He smirked.

 

“Any of it,” Louis  joked. “Especially not when I accused you of cheating on me.”

 

Harry bit his lip.

 

“That was my fault. I was acting weird and I couldn’t tell you why.”

 

“New York was shit without you,” Louis promised.  “I kept seeing things you’d like or that made me think of you and- actually everything makes me think of you,” he inserted with an eye roll. “But I was so scared when I got back and you were on your bed and Tom was just standing there and-“

 

Harry winced; guilt flooding his chest.

 

“I was tired, I just threw myself down and-“

 

“He liked it,” Louis whispered.

 

Harry met his gaze; fear clashing with fear.

 

“I don’t want Tom,” he assured. “It’s not Tom that I'm in love with.”

 

“And I don’t want anyone else either,” Louis urged. “I happen to like your ripped jeans...”

 

His fingertips slowly broached one such rip. Harry felt his smile creep slowly onto his lips.

 

He leaned forward to kiss him; pulling Louis slowly toward him to straddle his lap.

 

“Iloveyou,” Harry mumbled against Louis' lips as they parted to press soft kisses into each other's mouths.

 

Louis laid his palms against Harry’s chest; tugging suggestively at the material of his t-shirt.

 

“Will you let me help you?” Louis asked, rucking up the material to find the hem. Once he found it, he slid the shirt off when Harry lifted his arms.

 

He stroked the back of his fingers over the front of Harry’s jeans, earning a whimper and a twist of his hips.

 

“What is this, blackmail?” Harry husked.

 

Louis smiled, fingers making quick work of undoing his belt and starting on his jeans stud and zipper.

 

“Is it working?” Louis wondered, looking up to Harry to cue him to lift his hips which he did with half lidded eyes and spiked breaths falling from his lungs

 

“N-no,” Harry lied, trying to get control of the situation.

 

Louis began to stroke him; kissing his mouth hotly and earning some needy cries from Harry’s lips.

 

When Louis clambered between his knees to take Harry in his mouth; Harry gasped and tried not to let his hips jump up. Louis felt incredible; hot tight mouth around him, sounds from his throat vibrating against his sensitivity.

 

“Lou,” he bit his lip against another sound and remembered that Louis _liked_ it; liked hearing him. He let it slip free.

 

“Patience,” Louis promised as he pulled away for a moment. “All you have to do is say _yes_.”

 

It was a _yes_ that Harry wouldn’t normally entertain. A _yes_ that gave Louis some control over his life. But he _could_ cope without Louis, he was proving he could manage alone. And if Louis had _extra_ money and they were a partnership then would it really hurt to accept his help?

 

Louis’ mouth was back on him, sucking him down. He gave a weak, throaty cry.

 

“Yes,” he croaked.

 

Louis hummed.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry called louder, more abandoned.

 

He choked as Louis pulled off to work his hand over him quickly; Harry feeling the familiar crawl of his orgasm roll tightly over his skin.

 

His lips parted in a hitched gasp as Louis stayed between his knees; Harry’s release raining over his pretty features.

 

He tried to coordinate himself enough to clean him up and drag him close but his body felt foreign to him; overwhelmed by his pleasure.

 

Louis saw to himself and settled Harry to rest on the sofa; blanket draped over his naked body.

 

When he’d slept a bit longer, he got up to find Louis; letting the shrouding blanket slide to the floor when he found him in the bedroom, tidying up.

 

”Want you inside me, now,” He whispered. “Want to feel you.”

 

He felt Louis for long hours after they made love; pink bitten bruises burning hotly on his skin and a sweet aching when he clenched his ass.

 

“You could come and stay here, you know,” Louis drew patterns on his chest; fingertips roaming lower onto his belly, over his tattoos.

 

Harry hummed. “I could. “

 

“Or I could just pick up your accommodation bill,” he added. “You know...if it’s too soon to move in together. “

 

“Well I have to study a _lot_ ,” Harry warned. “Not exactly a love nest scenario.”

 

Louis placed a tender kiss against his ribs and he felt his muscles flutter inside where Louis had not long ago filled him.

 

“I’m a sensitive guy,” Louis teased. “I’m not going to be banging down your door demanding sex.”

 

Harry snorted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Living with Louis was infinitely more appealing than living with Alex.

 

“Let's trial it before I give up my room,” he suggested. 

 

Louis pressed another kiss to his chest.

 

“Okay ,” he smirked, Harry’s arm tightening around his shoulders.

 

Louis let his tongue trail a path over his formed pectoral, curling around his nipple erotically.

 

“Lou!” Harry huffed out an incredulous laugh.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“This isn’t an excuse to _seduce_ me into staying with you...”

 

Louis glanced up at him with mirth brightening his eyes; a small grin flashing across his lips.

 

“I wasn't,” he lied audaciously.

 

When Harry just blinked at him he dipped his head to take up where he'd left off.

 

//

 

Louis made sure to finish work on time instead of staying late to stretch out the amount of time he’d spend alone at home.

 

He learned very quickly that Harry would often be home in the early afternoon through to tea-time and after eating he’d hole himself up to concentrate on his studies in the office Louis arranged in the conservatory at the rear of the house.

 

Once Harry got to know Louis' routine he moved his pre-dinner studying to the den; the relaxed and comfortable TV room Louis loved to slouch in most weekends.

 

Harry had somewhat adopted the big sofa in there and it still made Louis' heart triple-beat when he found him there; curled up in loose soft socks and warm jumpers or barefoot in jeans and a t-shirt.

 

“Hey,” he hovered in the doorway, eyes going over Harry's attire.

 

Today he had on a beanie _and_ a hoodie, long shorts cutting off above his knees.

 

“Hi,” answered without looking up; books opened and overlapping on his thighs

 

“Hungry?” Louis wondered.

 

Harry shook his head, hand still scribbling notes in his folder. Louis paused; gaze flicking over him.

 

“When did you last have a break?”

 

Harry snorted.

 

“Don’t have time,” he mumbled.  “I’ve got 5000 words to get down and then redraft twice by morning...”

 

Louis wanted to say something. He wanted to say _more_ ; but he knew it might not be best to, at least not right in that moment. It took all his strength to push himself away from the door frame but he walked away with guilt aching his chest.

 

//

 

Fuck.

 

Fuck, _fuck!_

Harry pushed his shaky fingers into his hair and paced the den carpet.

 

He’d gotten a _C minus_ on his paper. The one he’d spent all night re-writing to make it perfect, the one he’d woken up feeling drained because of; long body curled up uncomfortably on the sofa.

 

Louis had already left for work when he’d got up for Uni; the coffee machine left on for him. His heart clenched in his chest.

 

 _Louis_.

 

Oh god.

 

He’d blown him off last night; too absorbed in his paper and what did he have to show for it ? _A C minus, that’s what._

 

He sighed, breath hitching with his increased panic.

 

“How’s my favourite law student?” Louis’ voice sounded incredibly smooth as it reached Harry’s ears.

 

He shook his head and turned to and fro.

 

“What’s all this?” Louis walked into the den and grasped above his elbows to steady his shakiness.

 

Harry swallowed; heart thrashing and not in the good way like when Louis kissed him or wrapped a hand around him and stroked oh-so-slow until he came.

 

“I’m gonna fail,” he whispered, chin ducked low so Louis wouldn’t see the devastation he so sharply felt at the realisation.

 

Somehow in the moment all Harry could focus on was Louis' thumbs stroking over his skin gently before he stepped closer to slide his arms around him protectively.

 

“Why d'you think that, Harold?” He coaxed. “Hm?”

 

“I spent all night working on it and it still wasn’t good enough,” he sighed, leaning forward a bit into Louis.

 

Louis let his arms curl over his back as Harry shifted, stooping to rest his cheek on Louis' shoulder.

 

“You’re not going to fail,” Louis promised.  “What grade did you get?”

 

“C minus,” he mumbled.  “Minimum expected is a C and above, usually.”

 

Louis rested his chin gently among Harry’s soft hair, hands running gently over his back.

 

“Your average won’t be affected,” Louis assured. “Did they say anything about it?”

 

“That I should have asked for an extension,” Harry muttered under his breath.

 

“See!” Louis latched onto that. “You’re trying to do too much.”

 

Harry huffed, pulling away. He finally let himself stare into Louis' eyes.

 

“I’m sorry I was a dickhead last night.”

 

Louis’ lips pursed in a rueful smile.

 

“It's okay,” he allowed. “You warned me you’d be working most of the time.”

 

“I was rude,” Harry lifted a hand to splay it over Louis' chest. “I’m sorry.”

 

Louis leaned up, fingers sinking into his hair to coax him in for a kiss; something Harry shifted willingly to share. Kissing Louis was like grounding himself. It was like coming home to a warm fire and sweet marshmallows melting in hot chocolate; his favourite thick socks resting on the hearth to warm up.

 

His body ached in yearning; in _want._ His heart twisted in _love;_ fingers clinging to his clothes to grasp his only salvation.

 

Louis’ lips were the sweetest taste of all; perfectly soft and pretty. Harry could kiss him all night; had probably planned to once they’d moved in together, but Uni life was just as hard even now, even without an evening job and no accommodation bills to worry about.

 

“Maybe we should, um,” Harry went to move, which way he wasn’t sure because he stumbled, but he wanted to get Louis underneath him if possible. Or get underneath Louis; whichever worked out. And he couldn’t do it while they were standing there kissing in the vague light of the room.

 

Louis eyed his mound of floor cushions.

 

“Wanna dive in?” He arched his brow.

 

Harry’s smile unfurled slowly; revealing his lovely white teeth and the depth of his dimples; his eyes lighting up.

 

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he muttered; tugging Louis on top of him as he fell backwards into the soft pit.

 

//

 

Harry padded into the kitchen in his striped jogging pants; kicked off his Vans and swung his leather satchel into a spare seat with the initial intention of opening the fridge to glug some milk from the container.

 

Louis was at home in the kitchen though, dressed in some tight black jeans and no shoes; a dark red scooped-neck tee showing off his collarbones.

 

“What’s this?” He murmured tiredly.

 

Louis looked up from his chopping board.

 

“I’m making you dinner,” he stated with a lift of his brows and a winning smile.

 

“What?” Harry’s heart scattered in his chest.

 

“All you need to do is make yourself comfortable and try not to touch a text book until you’ve finished eating,” he teased.

 

Harry stared at him.

 

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

 

Louis shrugged.

 

“It's been a couple of weeks since you moved in and this is the new version of date night,” he offered.

 

Harry’s eyes flicked to the counter to see what Louis was preparing- something with carrots and mushrooms by the look of it. His gaze flicked back to his profile.

 

“Do I have time to shower?”

 

Louis hummed the affirmative.

 

“Haven’t actually got anything in the oven yet, I had to sort out this wedding party for suit fittings this afternoon and most of them were half cut...”

 

Harry shifted, gentle fingers curving around the back of Louis' neck to garner his attention and once he had it; he placed a deliberate kiss to his lips; tender and heartfelt.

 

“I’ll be really quick,” he promised anyway; not wanting to miss one moment with Louis on his surprise date night.

 

//

 

“Mmmm...”

 

Harry pressed Louis into the counter; the flavours of his dinner tasting better from his tongue than the dirty plates they’d attempted to clean up before-

 

“Too many clothes,” Harry’s fingers tugged at the hem of Louis' t-shirt to gently slide it over his torso; thumbs pressing into his armpits when Louis didn’t move his arms fast enough for the shirt to smoothly drop away.

 

Louis cupped his chin and audaciously unwrapped his belt, tongue slicking over his lips.

 

“Agreed, Harold,” he murmured; focused on the task of stripping denim from Harry’s lean limbs.

 

Harry tried (and failed, naturally) to step elegantly out of his jeans; falling into Louis and earning a squeak of pleasant surprise on impact; their mouths slowing to meaningful, sucking kisses from hot, tongue-lashing ones.

 

“Want,” Harry mumbled; just like the first time they’d fucked.

 

Louis cupped the back of his head and slid his other hand down the back of his boxer-briefs; circling his butt cheek slowly.

 

“How do you want it, Harold?”

 

He made sure he looked Louis in the eye when he answered.

 

“Hard.”

 

//

 

It was the first time since moving into Louis' spare room that Harry didn’t sleep in it.

 

They’d been keeping their boundaries but that had all fallen away among wine and chicken with vegetables in a cream sauce.

 

Harry smeared tiramisu onto Louis' tummy and curled over to lick it off.

 

“Great dessert, Lou...”

 

Louis’ fingers threaded through his short curls as he huffed in ticklishness; twisting away.

 

“Do you ever stop eating?”

 

Harry grinned. Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“Thank you for dinner, Louis,” he settled against Louis' side; eyes drifting shut.

 

Images flashed there of being bent over the kitchen counter; fucked hard like he’d asked and then kissed for a long time afterwards.

 

Now they were cuddled together, Louis whispered;

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

Harry shook his head. The tender throbbing was a welcome sensation.

 

“Make it super-sweet next time, hm?” Louis’ lips grazed his hair.

 

“Hmm,” Harry agreed; skin prickling with awareness.

 

He twisted to shift enough to kiss him; long body stretched out by Louis' side; thigh sliding across his to press his hips more comfortably against the smaller man.

 

Louis got lost in the kiss; fingertips surging into his hair where his hands cupped Harry’s neck.

 

“Make it sweet?” Harry rasped; voice deep with use.

 

Louis kissed his lower lip; blue eyes meeting green before they folded together softly.

 

//

 

Harry couldn’t help the self-satisfied grin that curved the edges of his lips as he collected his books from his locker.

 

“Why do you look so happy?” Cara accused, then, “Actually don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.”

 

Harry’s whole body felt warm with the memory of straddling Louis' lap wearing only his soft pink socks; his hands cupping Louis' face as they kissed deeply.

 

“No, you really don’t need to know,” he smirked.

 

Cara's sparkly gaze flicked over him.

 

“Guess you’re moving in for good, then...”

 

Harry walked beside her, biting his lip thoughtfully.

 

“Actually, I’m still pretending I’m not in this knee deep,” he mused.

 

“Don’t see what the problem is,” she shrugged.  “He passed my test and he’s being the perfect boyfriend... what more do you want?”

 

Harry slid into a seat beside her in the seminar room, setting up his laptop and paper notebook beside it.

 

“That’s the thing,” Harry murmured.  “There’s nothing else that I want. But I’m kind of afraid of becoming dependant on him. I mean, it’s great not having to worry about money but what if-“

 

He broke off as the Lecturer entered the room.

 

“What if we break up?” He added in a whisper while the Lecturer was getting settled.

 

Cara scribbled on the edge of his notebook.

 

“What if it’s BIG LOVE?”

 

Harry snorted at the message and covered it with a cough.

 

 _Big love_ was Cara's way of saying they were destined to be married with babies and Harry found that ridiculous.

 

Louis was only helping him out while he was struggling; to try and ease some of the stress he was under and once Harry was in control of his life again then he and Louis would snap back to their old routine; living apart and dating in the tiny pockets of free time Harry could muster up.

 

His chest felt tight at the thought of it; of how things had been before he’d moved in; without Louis to take care of his basic needs and more than that; talk to him when he was anxious and hold him when he was scared.

 

After lectures, Harry pulled Cara to one side.

 

“What do I bring to the table?” He asked.

 

Cara smiled bemusedly.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean...Louis is amazing, totally and completely saving my life pretty much and I'm...what am I bringing?”

 

Cara winked.

 

“Sex?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes with a huff. Cara rubbed his arm.

 

“Let’s not do this self depreciation thing again,” she soothed. “Pretty sure Louis is more than happy with what you bring to the table...”

 

Harry blinked at her but didn’t feel appeased by her words.

 

 

//

 

Louis had barely slipped in through the front door when he was engulfed by a tall, strong- _and enticingly warm_ \- Harry.

 

“Hey!” He chuckled; squeezing him around the middle as his cheek smushed into Harry’s shoulder in the crushing hug.

 

“I got a B!” Harry huffed; still overwhelmed by the news, apparently.

 

Louis slipped his fingers into the back of Harry's hair as Harry curled closer; tightening him into his hugging arms.

 

“That’s brilliant!” He praised. “I’m so proud of you!”

 

Harry pulled away and grinned at him; cheeks flushed in happiness.

 

“Most of the class got C and below,” he added shyly.

 

Louis tilted up to kiss him.

 

“Knew you were special,” he beamed.

 

Harry couldn’t temper his smile.

 

“The extra studying time has really helped,” he lifted a hand to slide his thumb along Louis' cheek. “Thank you for letting me stay here. “

 

Louis pursed his lips, chin lifting a notch.

 

“You uh...you think you might stay for a little while longer?”

 

Harry blinked; swallowing hard.

 

“Yeah, I think I might. If it’s okay with you.”

 

Louis’ smile worked upwards from his lips; injecting a sparkle into his eyes.

 

“Think I can cope with that,” he teased before walking Harry backwards until he had him pressed against the wall.

 

//

 

A few days later; when they were ankles-tangled on the den sofa one lazy Sunday; Harry woke up from an afternoon snooze and blinked sleepily while he watched Louis trawling through the new season's designs; matching colours and textures for his many clients that he dressed.

 

His lips curled in the very corners at the sight; pride flooding his chest at watching him do what he loved; his diligence and conscientiousness a surprising turn-on.

 

He shifted his feet but didn’t untangle his legs from where they lay with Louis' in the centre of the sofa between them. He liked the soft, warm pressure of Louis’ body against his too much to break the moment.

 

“You know...I'm going to need some suits, soon,” he murmured; throat dry from sleep; causing his words to come out wispy.

 

Louis looked up from his tablet ; his sketch pad propped awkwardly on his thighs.  It slipped a bit when he jolted at the sound of Harry’s voice.

 

“Thought you were away with the fairies,” Louis mused of his surprise.

 

“Why fairies?” Harry yawned kittenishly, tongue curling cutely as he stretched.

 

Louis' gaze rested on his face reverently.

 

“You’re pretty enough to be one, you just need some wings...”

 

Harry smiled and squirmed at the compliment, sliding down into the cushions enough to wrap his fingers around Louis' delicate ankle. His thumb brushed over the knuckle joint tenderly.

 

“Will you dress me?” He asked; back on the topic of his initial comment.

 

Louis’ eyelashes fell to his cheeks as he swallowed. He rested the tablet on the coffee table and looked back up.

 

“I’d love to,” he admitted. “If you’ll let me.”

 

Harry nodded.

 

“I want you to.”

 

Louis licked his lips.

 

“What’s it for?”

 

Harry couldn’t help his smile.

 

“I got offered an internship at this amazing Law Firm who specialise in helping children,” he admitted.  “And I’m going to need to look smart,” he added hopefully, thumb brushing over Louis’ skin.

 

“I can do that,” Louis promised huskily, eyes clinging to Harry's sweats-and-t-shirted body. “Come here,” he added, sliding his ankle from Harry’s grasp to  make room between his legs for Harry to crawl into; arms open for him to cuddle.

 

Harry settled willingly into the receptive embrace. He bit his lip nervously.

 

“There’s something else,” he mumbled.

 

Louis kissed into his messy hair; arms wrapped around Harry’s curled body.

 

“Hmm? What’s that then?”

 

Harry sighed.

 

“It's in Oxford.”

 

Louis rubbed his hand soothingly over his back.

 

“That’s okay. There’s plenty of trains.”

 

Harry curled his legs up a bit.

 

“But I’ll be away more. Working and then travelling and I don’t want-“ He paused; fear overwhelming him for a moment. “I don’t want to fuck this up,” he managed to convey.

 

“I kind of already love you,” Louis reminded him with a smile that Harry didn’t see from his position in Louis' arms. “Not much you can do to change that.”

 

“Well, I nearly did once already,” he huffed, lifting his head to look into Louis' eyes.

 

“Just don’t go shopping with other guys again,” Louis teased. “And we’ll be fine.”

 

Harry chuckled, stretching to reach his mouth to kiss him; body languid from the remnants of his earlier sleep.

 

“I only want to kiss _you_ ,” Harry promised.

 

“Me too,” Louis whispered with a knowing glint in his eye at using Harry’s favourite phrase.

 

//

 

The suits Louis dressed him in were sharp and a touch flamboyant; accents of femininity in the colours or cut; sometimes in the tie or shirt instead.

 

Harry loved every single one and Louis had stupidly fitted him for sixteen different combinations; some being just trousers or shirts he could mix and match when he was able to be less formal.

 

Louis like _un_ dressing him just as much. He'd take his time unbuttoning him- jacket first, then shirt; pulling it from his fitted trousers band to carefully brush it off his torso; not one single button ripped from its place.

 

His trousers would come off last; fly fastenings unravelled achingly slow; Louis' hands feeling him harden through smooth or silky fabric; lips sometimes pressing over it before he freed Harry from the material.

 

Harry may spend less time at home but the time he did spend there was-- _his heart beat hitched. Fuck._ It was mind-blowingly hot. _Erotic_.

Harry gave his appreciation back in the only way he knew how. He made dinner for them both when he got in; trialling new recipes if he had an early finish. He also gave Louis shoulder-rubs when he came home exhausted from working late with lucrative clients.

 

Harry knew Louis felt obliged to help everyone and he loved him for it but he hated the way Louis looked too tired sometimes; like his little sparkle had been stolen away.

 

His internship was part-paid. Half of the money he snuck into Louis' account to help pay for his board and the other half he stashed away, an idea tickling the back of his mind.

 

“Hey, Lou?”

 

Harry held Louis gently as they laid together after they’d made love knelt against the sofa; crawling onto it afterwards; careless to any sticky stains they left in their wake.

 

“Hmm?” Louis kissed his jaw and tightened his palm around Harry’s bicep as Harry lifted his arm to jam his fingers through his hair.

 

“How about a holiday?” He asked.

 

His heart pattered in his chest in nervous apprehension. _Was it too soon for a couples getaway? Would Louis prefer they use the money for something more important?_

 

Louis trailed his fingers down Harry’s arm and threaded their fingers together.

 

“Sounds nice,” Louis ventured.

 

Harry let out an anxious breath.

 

“Okay. Because I saved some money. And I want to use it to buy us a week away somewhere...”

 

Louis lifted his head from Harry’s chest, pressing a kiss into his lips.

 

“Let me pay for it,” he requested softly.

 

Harry shook his head.

 

“You’re already covering everything else. I really want to do this for us.”

 

Louis pursed his lips and swallowed, shifting a bit.

 

“You’re asking me to accept a gift but you won’t let me give you anything,” he frowned.

 

“You gave me a wardrobe full of suits,” Harry smiled tentatively; sensing Louis' tension.

 

“Work paid for those,” Louis murmured.  “Part of my job benefits,” he added before Harry could protest.

 

“Fine,” Harry agreed lightly. “And part of my job benefit is getting to take you away to say thank you for being supportive,” he added softly.

 

Louis pressed his lips together; warm naked body perfectly weighting Harry down against the sofa.

“But you could save that money,” Louis argued. “Since I have enough sitting around doing nothing and you need to save it more than me...”

 

Harry’s eyes darkened; body tensing.

 

“I’m not poor,” he defended. “I just didn’t get a scholarship and my Mum's on her own. Being a single parent with two kids to put through Uni isn’t easy for her. Which is why I promised to take care of myself.”

 

Louis sat up a bit when Harry moved to break their embrace.

 

“It's okay, you know,” Louis told him as Harry sat up and sighed, long fingers gliding into his fluffy hair.

 

“My Mum thinks I have this amazing part-time job in a Solicitor’s office near campus,” Harry shared tersely as he got up to find his boxers and yanked them on. “She has no idea I used to pull pints and I’m now living with my _boyfriend_ ,” he derided.

 

Louis paused from dragging the sofa throw over his naked lap.

 

“She doesn’t know about us?” He asked.

 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut.  _Shit._ Louis deserved so much better.

 

“I-“ He frowned, tugging on his t-shirt as he turned to look at Louis still sat on the sofa. “It's complicated,” he murmured.

 

Louis nodded.

 

“Right,” he flicked his eyes away. “ I see.”

 

“Lou,” Harry stepped forward as Louis pushed himself out of the seat.

 

Louis smiled acerbically.

 

“Thought it was quite simple, myself,” he muttered. “Rang my Mum the day after our first date and promised I’d take you up to Doncaster as soon as you were comfortable,” he shared. “Guess we're not on the same page after all.”

 

Harry opened his mouth to argue the point; to reject Louis' claims but he had nothing to fight back with. He hadn’t told his Mum about them partly because he’d been afraid. He'd been afraid Anne would fall in love with Louis the way he had and when he fucked things up he was afraid she’d blame him for being so broken.

 

“She's-“ he started as Louis moved toward the den door. ”She's traditional!” He called after him, grabbing his jeans to follow him upstairs to shower and change for bed.

 

Louis fluttered a hand at him dismissively as he made his way up the stairs.

 

“It's fine, don’t worry about it, Harry...”

 

“Don't-“ Harry frowned, swallowing hard through the thick wad of emotion wedged in his throat. “Don’t do that,” he pleaded. “Don’t call me _Harry_ when you’re punishing me.”

 

Louis span in the hallway, brows furrowed and head tilted defensively.

 

“Punishing you?” He choked bemusedly. “I'm not _punishing_ you,” he denied. “What you tell your parents is up to you. I have nothing to do with it,” he mused. “Or _you_ , apparently.”

 

Harry followed him doggedly to his bedroom door.

 

“If I tell her about you, she'll want to meet you,” Harry grasped at the shreds of what was left of his pride. “And when she meets you she’ll plan the bloody wedding because I don’t take guys home, Lou,” he appealed. “I never take _anyone_ home because I know what she’s like and-and it puts people off. The guys I’ve let her talk to on the phone-- it's,” he winced, tears coming to his eyes. “It's ruined things, before.”

 

Louis stared at him for long; aching moments while the tension between them weighed heavy in the air. Harry expected Louis to turn inside his room and shut the door (hard) in his face.

 

Louis stepped closer and grasped a handful of his t-shirt by his ribs.

 

“You didn’t even ask,” he whispered; voice husked and breaking as he caught in a ragged breath. “Maybe I want all that,” he beseeched.  “But you didn’t give me a chance to _try._ I'm-“ he swallowed, blue eyes dulled with pain. “I’m meant to be the man you love. Not just some guy your Mum will scare off with talk of commitment. _I’m_ meant to be the one you trust to share that with over anyone else.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened; fear surging up in his chest and leaving him breathless.

 

“Lou...”

 

Louis shook his head.

 

“I have to get to work early tomorrow, we’re staging a catwalk at a Wedding Fayre in Kensington,” he mumbled. “I need to get some rest.”

 

Harry's throat ached with his unshed tears. He took a step back when Louis let go of his t-shirt to push up his door a little.

 

“Goodnight, Harold,” Louis whispered and the nickname barbed Harry like a sting; making him flinch.

 

//

 

 

It was seven o’clock when Louis checked on dinner for the hundredth time; expecting Harry back around his more-usual arrival time of six.

 

When a knock sounded at the front door he rinsed his hands; assuming Harry had either forgotten his key or was doing something stupid like not letting himself in because of their fight.

 

Louis’ chest hurt in thinking he’d made Harry feel like he couldn’t let himself in anymore.

 

He swung the door open in his jeans and vest-top; hair silky from his late shower.

 

“Oh, hello,” smiled on older, dark haired woman with kind eyes.

Louis frowned, confused.  _Perhaps she had the wrong house?_

“Hi,” he smiled politely. “Can I help you?”

 

The lady took a breath.

 

“Do you know Harry?” She asked carefully.

 

Louis’ heart nearly stopped in his chest. He let go of the door to step forward.

 

“Is he okay? Did something happen?”

 

The woman’s smile deepened, brown eyes keeping contact with his.

 

“He’s fine,” she assured. “But I went to find him at the University dorms and his room-mate gave me this address...”

 

Louis gulped. _Fuck._ Harry’s _Mum._

He blinked three times, paralysed until sense kicked in.

 

“You must be Harry’s Mum,” he breathed, smiling warmly.

 

Harry’s Mum glanced at him.

 

“I’m Anne,” she greeted. “You must be Louis,” she added knowingly.

 

Louis ignored the way his heart tripped over itself. Not only had Harry told his Mum about them in the hours since their fight but she’d felt the need to come and see her son; possibly to meet _Louis_ especially.

 

“Why don’t you come in for a bit?” Louis backed up into the hall to make room. “You can wait for Harry here...”

 

Anne stepped into the house and Louis led her into the kitchen.

 

//

 

“He called me in floods of tears,” Anne shared over the dinner Louis served; still silently worried about Harry’s late arrival home and lack of contact.

 

Louis rested his fork at the side of his plate.

 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “You must think I’m-“

 

“Oh, wait!” She grasped his hand with a squeeze. “I hadn’t finished,” she winked.

 

Louis smiled tightly.

 

“Sorry,” he murmured, allowing her to continue.

 

“He told me he'd messed up the best thing that had happened to him,” she relayed gently. “And that it was my fault for making him scared to bring anybody home.”

 

She laughed breathily at that, rolling her eyes.

 

Louis nodded, wanting to ask her about the other guys in Harry’s life who may have left once they’d met the dark-haired woman who seemed nothing but warm and loving.

“We had a fight about it last night,” he admitted.

 

Anne swallowed, taking another bite of her food before talking again.

 

“He’s just so special,” she said next, looking at Louis with heartfelt emotion sketched into her features.

 

Louis smiled at that, lashes batting off his cheeks.

 

“He really is. And he doesn’t know it,” he marvelled.

 

Anne watched him for a moment.

 

“Tell me something about him,” she requested gently. “Something nice,” she added jokingly. “Not about how he messed up.”

 

Louis bit his lip and dipped his eyes to his plate, toes curling around the rung of his stool.

 

“He makes me want to be near him all the time...like--I’ve never wanted to protect someone as much as I do with him. I-“

 

Louis' earnest speech was cut off by the sound of the front door latch opening; carpeted footsteps treading down the hall until a long body appeared in the doorway. Harry was dressed in his pale grey flecked trousers and a black shirt; his tie loose around his neck and his satchel hanging from his fingers by the strap.

 

His eyes flicked from Louis where he’d stood to greet him; to his Mother seated at the table.

 

“Mum?” He frowned; shooting Louis a panicked look. “What are you doing here?”

 

Anne huffed and scraped back her chair to move to hug her son, Harry tossing his bag onto an empty seat to embrace her fully; pressing a kiss onto her cheek.

 

“Hi,” he added sheepishly afterwards.

 

Anne tutted.

 

“You call me in tears and you expect me _not_ to check on you?”

 

Harry swallowed, glancing at Louis.

 

“You could have called.”

 

“Don’t worry, I haven’t said anything to put Louis off,” she added with a knowing smile.

 

Harry blinked at her, looking back to Louis once more.

 

_Was he still angry? Was it worse that his Mum was there now, the cause of their fight? Would he forgive him?_

“It's okay,” he assured bravely. “I should have introduced you ages ago,” his voice wobbled at the admission; tears slipping down his cheeks. His hands were shaky when he lifted them to wipe the wetness away.

 

Louis stepped hesitantly closer as Anne glanced between them both.

 

“You two need to talk,” she narrated. “I’ll go and freshen up...”

 

Harry didn’t wait for Anne to leave the room to stumble forward; wrapping himself around Louis' smaller form.

 

“ _Fuck!_ I’m so sorry Lou. I’m so bad at this! I just keep fucking it up and-“ Harry sniffed; a tremor working through his body.  “I don’t want to lose you,” he begged. “I rang my Mum this morning to tell her. To tell her what you mean to me and how stupid I am and-“

 

Louis was kissing him; sucking the words off his lips and gently hooking them out of his mouth with his tongue. Harry made a pained noise in his throat and kissed him back; clutching him close, tightly; not willing to set him free.

 

A throat-clearing drew them reluctantly apart. Anne stood by the door with her arms folded.

 

“So...when _is_ the wedding?” She asked with a wink.

 

//

 

“It was lovely to meet you,” Louis hugged Anne warmly the next morning; having paid for a taxi to take her to the train station.

 

Anne pulled back to smile at him.

 

“Am I really that intimidating?” She asked.

 

Louis laughed, shaking his head. Anne had given him what she referred to as the ‘Talk'; the very same speech she’d given a few of his College boyfriends apparently.

 

In it she’d questioned his intentions and then told him softly that he’d have to be something really impressive to be good enough to deserve Harry.

 

Louis had taken her words and thought long and hard about them; getting up early to make Harry’s favourite pancakes for breakfast before Anne headed home.

 

They'd offered her to stay for longer but she’d invited them up to Cheshire for Autumn break instead.

 

Harry hastened down the pathway while Louis and Anne bid goodbye.

 

“Sorry,” he huffed, tugging at his colourful jumper.

 

He'd been late showering; eating too many pancakes to motivate himself into moving until the last minute. He looked at Louis and slid an arm around his back; turning to drop a longing kiss to his lips.

 

“I won’t be long;” he added of his intention to escort his Mum to the station to see her off.

 

“You two should just enjoy your day,” she waved a dismissive hand. “I can get home by myself.”

 

Harry frowned, stepping closer to her and away from Louis.

 

“Mum...”

 

She smiled at her son, glancing at Louis who stepped away discreetly.

 

“Harry, look at you,” she flattened a hand against his chest. “You’re happy. And twenty four hours ago you didn’t sound it but I can see it with my own eyes now.”

 

Harry swallowed, reaching forward to hug her.

 

“How do I stop fucking up?” He whispered.

 

Anne rubbed his back.

 

“He’s still here isn’t he?”

 

Harry hummed; squeezing her tightly.

 

“Be good,” she teased as she pulled away.

 

Harry rolled his eyes, waving her off as the taxi pulled away; Louis fitting into his side to do the same.

 

Harry sighed.

 

“Tell me she didn’t give you the _Talk_ ,” he begged.

 

He looked down at his boyfriend and Louis' eyes crinkled amusedly.

 

“It was good,” he grinned. “Good talk...”

 

Harry huffed and slid his hands over Louis' hips to guide them into his lower back; settling them on his behind as he wrangled him into an imbalanced kiss. Louis grinned into it; softening into an appreciative hum as his body reacted to the persuasion of Harry’s mouth.

 

“Hey,” Harry kissed along his jaw slowly. “I’m sorry. For...you know.”

 

Louis slid his hands under the hem of Harry's jumper to dig his cold fingertips against his belly. Harry gasped and tightened his arms around Louis’ waist to haul him inside.

 

They stumbled and fell in the hallway; kissing breathlessly in messy abandon until they made it upstairs.

 

Harry automatically directed them to Louis’ room; tumbling on top of him on the bed.

 

 

// _Seemed like it's a scene change_

 

“Lou?” Harry asked sometime later.

 

He crawled into place across his hips, lower lip bitten between his teeth.

 

“Yeah?” Louis cupped his neck; thumbing over his jaw. Harry grasped the wrist of that hand.

 

“I love you,” he stated; simple and clear.

 

Louis smiled.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

Harry eyed him furtively.

 

“Will you love me even if we fight?”

 

Louis sat up a bit to gaze at Harry lovingly; smoothing his thumb over Harry’s lower lip.

 

“Don’t stay out so late next time,” Louis soothed, kissing his upper lip. “I was worried about you...”

 

Harry slid his hands over Louis' shoulders until his arms were settled around them; securing him in place. When he tilted his head to kiss him; their lips were already tentatively pressed together; sweet relief threading through his veins.

 

“So scared you'd hate me,” Harry mumbled incoherently. “Didn’t want to come back to you hating me...”

 

Louis kissed him harder; fingers gliding into his hair to cup the back of his head. He coaxed Harry into a deeper kiss, tongue lashing his as if he could kiss the emotions he felt into his mouth. He pressed their chests together and let his hands brace Harry’s thighs that settled around him; thumbs digging into his lean muscles.

 

“Want you,” Louis told him between tender, soft kisses. “Harold... _always_ , remember?”

 

Harry moaned in his throat and when he finally eased down onto Louis' dick his body quivered delicately at the heat of him ; thick and pulsing inside him hotly.

 

“Want,” Harry managed to push the word through a swallow. “Always.”

 

Louis held him tightly as he came undone; tremors shimmering through him for long after; Louis' loving kisses pressed into his lips.

 

//

 

“By the way,” Harry kissed Louis' cheek the next morning when he woke to find Louis in the middle of making breakfast. “I want to meet your Mum, too...”

 

Louis grinned and playfully squeezed his ass; pressing him into the counter to kiss him hello properly.

 

“Better hurry up and finish your internship, then,” Louis teased.

 

Harry escaped his embrace to butter his just- cooked toast.

 

“Last day today,” Harry bit into his toast. “Back to Uni in two weeks.”

 

“Perfect,” Louis nodded. “We can go next weekend if you’re good with that?”

 

Harry nodded with a grin; pulling Louis into a loose hug; arm folded around his neck and socked foot curling behind his ankle.

 

“Will she like me?”

 

Louis tilted his head with a thoughtful hum.

 

“Well she hasn’t got a ‘Talk', or anything,” he quipped with a bright grin; expecting Harry to free himself from his arms once more in mock outrage but Harry only leaned back in to kiss him some more until they over-balanced; grasping for the counter to right themselves.

 

Louis ground his hips against Harry’s; their hard dicks brushing deliciously together. He leaned up to rasp in his ear;

 

“You think your internship would mind if you didn’t make it for your last day?”

 

Harry's breathing hitched.

 

“M-maybe I can go in a little late,” He kissed Louis again; fingers splaying over his face.

 

//

“Is this him?” Johanna looked at Louis and then cast her delighted gaze on Harry. “Aren’t you just angelic?” She cooed.

 

Harry swallowed and hugged her awkwardly.

 

“Hi,” he smiled as she squeezed him tightly.

 

“Oh, Louis,”  Jay teased as she cupped Harry’s arms. “He’s so pretty....”

 

Harry smiled shyly; cheeks flushing.

 

“Thank you,” he appreciated. “You’re also very beautiful, Mrs. Tomlinson,” he added charmingly.

 

“Oh, call me Jay,” the older woman insisted; leading them into the house.

 

Louis took Harry’s hand once they were sat together on the sofa.

 

“Harry’s just finished an internship at a Law Firm in Oxford,” Louis boasted proudly.

 

“Back to the books next week,” Harry added sadly. “It's been nice taking a break from it all.”

 

“Louis said you’re looking at going on holiday together,” Jay  commented when she brought in tea and biscuits.

 

Harry slid Louis a look. The topic of the holiday had instigated the argument about Harry not telling his Mum about them but ultimately they’d never settled the matter.

 

“Yeah, we’re thinking of going away in the New Year after my exams,” Harry smiled.

 

Louis’ hand slipped from his and curved around his knee and until that moment Harry hadn’t realised he’d been jigging it nervously.

 

“Harry wanted to treat me to Jamaica,” he told his Mum audaciously; smiling into Harry’s face when he turned to look at him.

 

Harry leaned back and curled his arm around Louis' shoulders; pressing a kiss to his temple.

 

“Yeah, he’s been so good to me and I just wanted to do something nice for him for a change...”

 

“I’m sure you’ll both have a lovely time,” Jay assured. “I’m glad Louis could help you out when you needed it.”

 

Harry smirked, eyes glued to the side of Louis' face.

 

“Me too.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, holding up a finger to his Mum.

 

“Excuse me a sec,” he twisted to lick into Harry’s mouth; fingers guiding his jaw into it.

 

Harry pulled away with a mortified look; avoiding Jay’s gaze.

 

“I’m going to use the loo,” he got up purposefully, nimbly avoiding the playful smack Louis tried to give his behind on the way out.

 

//

 

When he wandered back to the living room; only Jay was there, a scatter of photo albums now lying around her.

 

“Where'd Louis sneak off to?” He asked.

 

“Oh, Mr. Finch from next door needed a hand with some fencing that came down in last night's wind,” Jay explained as she cleared a space beside her. “Come and look at these with me,” she smiled.

 

“Louis' baby pictures?” He guessed as he folded into the seat.

 

Jay nodded with a tearful smile.

 

“And now he’s grown up and in love,” she sniffed.

 

Harry leaned forward to squint at the old, grainy pictures; face lighting with soft fondness for his boyfriend in his childhood days.

 

“He liked denim, didn’t he,” he teased, earning Jay's arm threaded through his; her hand patting his arm.

 

“Thank you for loving him,” she whispered and Harry stilled, not sure if he was meant to respond or not.

 

He peeked at her, fingers tracing the edge of the book.

 

“I don’t know how anyone _doesn’t_ love him,” he breathed, meeting her gaze hesitantly.

 

“He looks so happy,” Jay praised. “Keep taking care of him for me.”

 

Harry felt guilt slice into his chest at the times he _hadn’t_ taken care of Louis; the times he'd been afraid or hurt him or _argued._

“I’ll never be good enough for him but I promise I’ll spend my life trying,” he pledged.

 

Jay gasped, hand pressing over her mouth.

 

“You're-?”

 

Harry widened his eyes; realising what he'd just let slip out of his mouth. He might have promised Louis _always_ but to admit to Louis' Mum he wanted a lifetime with him was probably too much.

 

“I mean, not _yet_ ,” he sucked in a breath as he back pedalled. “I haven’t asked him, but I will you know, maybe-“

 

“In Jamaica?” Jo cut through his babbling.

 

Harry blinked at her. _In Jamaica._ It'd be perfect, with the relaxed atmosphere and romantic sunsets. He could plan it all out, buy a ring and surprise Louis. _Would Louis say yes?_

 

“Um.  So do I have your approval?” He asked plainly.

 

Jay twisted to hug him.

 

“Yes, darling, you do.”

 

//

 

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He’d never been so nervous.

 

Not the first time he’d _seen_ Louis or the first time he’d tried to pull a pint in front of him. Not when they’d gone on their first date or even the first time they’d fought.

 

Nothing compared to that moment; walking along the water’s edge at sundown; a sarong tied around his hips and his chest bare; sunglasses propped in his hair while Louis covered up in long board shorts with a matching turtle print to Harry’s shorter version; a t-shirt protecting his delicate skin while Harry tanned more easily.

 

Louis' fingers were tangled with his and he felt him tug on his hand.

 

“You’re quiet tonight,” Louis observed.

 

They’d floated in the water together for most of the afternoon; kissing languidly and stroking each other off under the surface; among the warm waves and beautiful sunshine.

 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Harry blurted, pointing up ahead to where a small table was set on the jetty; arranged by Harry with the private beach resort owners.

 

Louis opened his mouth in shock.

 

“Dinner?”

 

Harry nodded; curling his arms around Louis sideways to press a messy kiss against his temple.

 

“They’re going to be serving a crab main in around twelve minutes,” Harry shared. “I’ve got tiramisu back at the hut...”

 

Louis flashed him a grin; pausing to kiss him longingly.

 

“You could have just gone with a tropical dessert,” he teased.

 

“But I like eating cream and coffee off you,” Harry pouted.

 

Louis swallowed, hands sliding onto Harry’s waist.

 

“Is it too late to cancel the crab?”

 

Harry huffed and licked into his mouth.

 

“Come on, Lou,” he pulled him gently towards the jetty. “We’ve got all night,” he winked of their passion.

 

//

 

Harry's knee began to jig about a minute after they sat down.

 

When their plates were delivered by smartly dressed resort staff; a small velvet pouch was slipped into Harry’s hand; his green eyes flicking to Louis to check if he noticed but he was busy making polite conversation with the waiter.

 

Harry let out a nervous breath. If he lost his nerve then Louis wouldn’t need to know he'd ever planned to ask.

 

“To paradise,’ Harry lifted his wine glass in toast.

 

“To us,” Louis added with an arch of his brow.

 

Harry began to feel sick after two mouthfuls, pushing his food around his plate while he tried to tame his scattered heartbeat.

 

“You sure you’re ok?” Louis sipped his wine.

 

Harry nodded, forcing a smile onto his lips.

 

Louis paused, putting down his glass.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“No!” Harry blurted, chest tight with anxiety. “I’m just- I’m not very hungry.”

 

Louis narrowed his eyes.

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

Harry stared at him; wishing that Louis didn’t know him so well sometimes. That he didn’t know him well enough to tell when he was lying.

 

“Nothing,” he insisted. “I promise,” he added with a swallow.

 

Louis leaned forward to grasp his hand, pushing their plates to one side.

 

“Whatever is it, you can tell me,” he soothed. “If-if you’re not happy or I’m not satisfying you in bed or something then we can work through it,” he offered.

 

“Lou,” Harry huffed, knee bouncing anxiously once more.

 

“Is it beyond being able to work through?” Louis wondered, face creasing.

 

“No!” Harry exasperated.  “Fuck, no, it’s not what you-“

 

He stood up; cloth pouch tucked into his palm. Louis watched him with wide blue eyes full of concern.

 

Harry paused beside him and rolled his eyes with another huff; lowering to one knee beside his chair.

 

“Lou,” he licked his lips.

 

“Harold?” Louis twisted in his seat, confused.

 

“Shush,” Harry smiled weakly; swallowing hard to stop himself from puking in Louis' lap. “Let me,” he begged softly, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together.

 

“Hey, beautiful,” Louis coaxed in a sweet voice. “Look at me...”

 

Harry opened his eyes.

 

Louis' skin looked hot from too much sun; probably from being in the water where their lotion had washed off. His eyes were still incredibly kind though.  He looked like he might have worked it out.

 

“I may not be the best you can get,” he began shakily, earning a reprimanding tilt of Louis' head. “But I don’t want to see you with anyone else,” Harry murmured, taking deep breaths to aid his wobbly courage. “Nobody else knows that you like being cuddled any chance you get,” he recounted softly. “Or that you hate it when people mix cereals up in a bowl, or that your worst fear is dressing a celebrity who ends up on the fashion pages for the wrong reasons,” he mused.

 

Louis pursed his lips, sliding his hand over Harry’s sun-warmed shoulder.

 

“Shh, don’t spill _all_ my secrets,” he teased quietly.

 

Harry gained courage at that; sensing Louis' acceptance of his speech; if not his proposal.

 

“And nobody else should get to hold you and kiss you and tell you that they’re in love with you either,” He decided. “Because that’s _my_ job,” Harry smiled.  “That’s my purpose in life, in fact,” he added. “So if you’re willing to accept that my fate is entwined with yours then I’d love for you to marry me,” Harry posed. “Then you get to keep me for life,” he mumbled. “If you want.”

 

Louis pretended to consider the offer, thumb and forefinger grasping his chin.

 

“For life?” He mouthed. “Hmmm....”

 

Harry carefully loosened the neck of the velvety pouch and slid out the ring he'd chosen; a thick silver band with two slim glittered stripes around it and “I promise” engraved in the inside.

 

It had taken Harry days to decide what to inscribe but he hoped he had chosen the right words.

 

“Fucking hell,” Louis gaped; blue eyes darting to green. “You didn’t have to buy this!”

 

Harry stared at him.

 

“You haven’t said yes or no, yet...”

 

Louis slid off the chair and into Harry's arms; pressing an urgent hard kiss to his lips.

 

“As if I’d say no!” He huffed.

 

Harry held him tightly in a hug.

 

“Thank you, Louis.“

 

“Shh,” Louis pressed tender kisses to his mouth. “Don’t say that. I love you. I want to marry you, you just asked first, that’s all...”

 

Harry blinked at him.

 

“Too soon?”

 

Louis shook his head.

 

“Fuck, no. The day you poured me a pint of froth you had me,” he grinned as Harry snorted.

 

“I’m going to make you so happy, Lou,” he promised.

 

“You already do,” Louis murmured; tempted into another kiss.

 

When he pulled away; Harry traced his knuckles gently over his cheek.

 

“Shall we try the tiramisu?”

 

Louis smirked.

 

“You do realise I’m buying you a massive diamond when we get back?”

 

Harry laughed and got up; helping Louis to his feet.

 

“I know better than to try and stop you,” he murmured as they walked back to the hut hand in hand.

 

//

 

_EPILOGUE_

 

Louis had been nervously pushing his silver band around his wedding-ring finger for the last five minutes.

 

His skin felt hot from the friction but he was sweating beside that.

 

Damn nerves.

 

He glanced around the table of well-dressed peers; all colleagues and people in the business of Law.

 

Harry had been a practicing Lawyer for a year now; joining an ethical firm in Soho  and working his way up.

 

The firm had a philanthropic Foundation that Harry had quickly gotten involved with. They built much-needed water supplies in disadvantaged countries and donated to schools to help with the cost of books.

 

Louis had supported Harry fully when he’d wanted to fly out to Uganda to meet some of the affected children; travelling with him to the underprivileged areas, holding Harry tight when he’d found the harsh reality too much.

 

But Louis' heart couldn’t beat much harder with pride tonight.  Harry had been asked; out of all of the Lawyers who'd been active in the project to give a speech at the annual fundraiser.

 

And Louis had enough money in his bank to go a little crazy when the corporate bidding began but for now he just had to try not to let his proud tears fall.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman,” the evening's host  (The Law Firm's most Senior Partner) greeted the audience through the microphone. “To talk about the Foundation's most important work, please welcome to the stage our most promising Junior Lawyer; Harry Styles...”

 

Louis stood up to clap robustly; smiling sheepishly when the people seated at their table looked at him.

 

“Not sorry,” he quipped to the men and women he’d gotten to know during the meal with Harry. “That’s my future husband...”

 

They laughed and Louis sat down to admire the suit Harry had picked to wear tonight. It was a classic black tuxedo except for the jacket which was a stunning mirrored fabric in blue and mauve; giving an air of daring alongside the otherwise traditional cut.

 

Louis hadn’t been surprised that Harry had chosen it out of the five he’d brought home; perfectly tailored. But watching him move to and fro up on the stage; the patterns swirling in an almost distracting way; he again felt emotions overwhelm him at Harry’s courage.

 

In this room, filled with Law Firm Senior Partners, it would have been easy to select a bland colour; or a matt texture in a brighter colour.

 

He watched Harry take a nervous breath and let it out; eyes staring into the unseen crowd.

 

“Good evening, everyone. “

 

“Love you!” Louis heckled; earning a patter of laughter from the crowd.

 

“I, um. I love you too,” Harry smiled bashfully. “That’s my fiancé by the way...we'll get security to take him outside while I talk,” he added with a grin.

 

The crowd settled and Louis listened. He listened to every word he had to say about hope and fear and the injustice that sometimes  threatened their mission. But his heart throbbed painfully when he spoke of love and wanting a family of his own; and the comparisons of wanting that in a place where the choice to live in poverty was not given; but forced upon those people.

 

Louis knew the cause would remain close to their hearts no matter how long Harry worked with The Firm but the idea of having kids together had him stuck on the second half of Harry’s speech; mind lost to an image of Harry playing with however many little angels they decided to have.

 

When Harry had finished talking, Louis was too awed at first; the room erupting into rapturous applause. He stood up and walked to the side of the stage; earning a surprised look from Harry as he went to climb down the steps to the floor.

 

He took Louis' hand and curled him close once he got to the bottom.

 

“Did I do okay?” He asked; eyes squeezed shut; heart racing in his chest.

 

“Babe,” Louis murmured softly, smoothing a hand over his broad back. “You stole the show.”

 

Harry pulled away and kissed him earnestly.

 

“Thanks for heckling me at the start,” he mused.

 

Louis laced their fingers together and led him back to their table.

 

“Bet you weren’t nervous after that,” he smirked.

 

Harry smiled at him.

 

“I guess not.”

 

Louis grinned and kept a steady arm around Harry’s waist while people came to wish Harry well.

 

“So,” Harry turned to him with dimples in his cheeks.

 

Louis lifted a brow.

 

“Want to dance?” Harry invited smoothly.

 

Louis got up to lead him onto the floor; his own tuxedo a classic navy blue to compliment Harry's.  Harry slipped his jacket off and slid his arm around Louis’ waist, clasping their free hands together while Louis grasped his shoulder.

 

Harry curled into him a bit as the music played and his tension eased. He even dropped a loving kiss to Louis' lips.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“This is a two-way thing you know.”

 

Harry smiled at him stupidly.

 

“Right. Name one thing I’ve done for you since we started dating...”

 

Louis ran his fingers over the smooth cotton of his shirt; thumbing the edge where Harry had unbuttoned it. 

 

“Loved me,” Louis swallowed, looking him in the eye.

 

Harry dipped to kiss him; cradling him close.

 

“Sometimes I don’t understand how it’s enough,” he murmured.

 

Louis briefly let go of his hand to re-button his shirt; covering the pretty sparrows he had inked there.

 

“Saving you for later,” he murmured. “Don’t want everyone to see...”

 

Harry took the opportunity to slide both arms around him; turning their dance even more intimate.

 

Louis sighed and reached up to grasp his shoulder once more; his other hand settling on his bicep.

 

“Hiding me away, hm?” Harry’s lips brushed his forehead.

 

Louis shrugged.

 

“Don’t see why not.”

 

Harry laughed, glancing around.

 

“Don’t suppose there’s much chance of me dancing with some of my colleagues, then?”

 

Louis lifted his chin in challenge.

 

“Only if _I_ can dance with your colleagues, too,” he bargained.

 

Harry made an unhappy face; brows furrowing.

 

“Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled.

 

Louis smiled smugly.

 

“Uh huh,” he hummed.

 

As they swayed together, Harry kissed Louis' cheek.

 

“I think we should set a date,” he said.

 

Louis tried not to let the butterflies in his tummy get too excited. He’d been waiting for Harry to commit to a date for their wedding for a few months; his new job and philanthropic role causing him to hesitate before finalising it .

 

Louis had panicked a bit, wondering if he’d changed his mind in any way about _them_ or their future but Harry had reminded him quite thoroughly; that he still wanted _everything._ He just needed time.

 

So Louis was giving him that. All the time he needed. And Harry could be referring to setting a date for their next holiday for all he knew.

 

“For?” Louis rubbed a palm over his side, onto his back.

 

Harry ducked his head; lips clinging to Louis' in a surprisingly hot kiss.

 

“Our wedding,” he arched a brow. “ What else?”

 

Louis let his heart trip over itself.

 

“I—just checking,” he murmured.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry added as he swept Louis around in circles on the dance floor. “If we’re going to have multiple babies then we should really get hitched soon.”

 

Louis clapped out a stark laugh.

 

“That’s the second time tonight you’ve talked about babies,” he mused fondly.

 

Harry watched him carefully.

 

“Thought I’d ease you in gently with my speech...less direct and easy to disclaim all liability...”

 

Louis stopped dancing to cuddle him in.

 

“Harold...How many babies do you want?”

 

Harry smiled.

 

“Depends if they all have blue eyes.”

 

Louis kissed his cheek.

 

“I’m ready when you are,” he promised.

 

Harry slid his fingers over his jaw to coax him into a kiss.  He jolted when something sharp poked him in the kidneys.

 

“You’re setting fire to the dance-floor,” his colleague, Margot laughed. “Get a room!”

 

Louis bowed his head with a grin.

 

“Shit. It’s my turn to embarrass you at your work party,” he joked.

 

Harry paused.

 

“Wait. So I _did_ embarrass you?” He checked belatedly.

 

Louis grabbed his hand and pulled him towards their table to collect his jacket.

 

“Elouise is waiting for you to come to the next work do,” he winked as he helped Harry into his shiny suit jacket.

 

Harry pouted.

 

“Just don’t let me have wine.”

 

“Thought it was quite entertaining, myself,” Louis quipped, guiding Harry towards the exit.

 

It took forty-five minutes to say goodbye to everyone and the taxi took too long to get home; caught up in the aftermath of traffic from an accident.

 

By the time they reached home, Louis was exhausted and Harry helped him walk up the path; unlocking the front door and helping him to undress. They rolled into bed together; Louis cuddling into him with a yawn.

 

“When do you want to get married, Harold?”

 

Harry felt a tingling warmth flood him. He'd remembered to ask; even in his exhaustion. He pressed a dry kiss into his hair.

 

“What about you?” He whispered. “When would you like to do it?”

 

Louis yawned; fingertips circling Harry’s third and fourth nipples distractedly.

 

“I was thinking maybe next Spring,” he murmured sleepily. “It's the perfect time for a Jamaican honeymoon and work will be more settled for you by then...plus your Mum loves it when the trees start to blossom...”

 

Harry’s chest hurt with the knowledge that Louis thought so much about other people without knowing he was doing it. Harry fell more in love with him every day and he hoped he meant enough to Louis for him to feel the same way.

 

“Can't wait to make you mine,” he whispered.

 

Louis smiled and settled against his chest to sleep.

 

//

 

 

The spring air had a cool breeze slicing through the bright, weak sunshine and the centuries-old brick church held little warmth.

 

Louis' hands felt jittery. He was having trouble holding things and had given the rings over to Niall eventually, Zayn and Liam watching him with knowing smiles from the second row.

 

His entire family took up the front row.

 

Every time he twisted to look at the double arched doors; he caught sight of Anne and her affirming, soothing smile.

 

_Don’t worry. He’ll be here._

Louis checked over his grey and purple checked suit; wondering if he could carry off the pattern with his petite height. Harry had fallen in love with the material when Louis had taken him to the warehouse and Louis had imagined Harry in the bold print more than himself.

 

But Harry had wanted to keep his outfit a surprise. Like all brides did, Louis mused.

 

He rubbed his palms together nervously and stared at the shiny toes of his brogues.

 

Fuck.

 

He was about to marry the love of his life.

 

Niall's sharp elbow in his ribs came seconds before the organ playing the traditional bridal march; every aspect of the day planned between them.

 

They had bickered a bit. Harry had walked out once and refused to marry him; seconds later turning back to sweep Louis into a deep and owning kiss; whispering _sorry_ into his lips over and over.

 

Louis had nearly disowned him when he’d talked about wearing white faux fur. He’d secretly bought him a beautiful, fitted belted winter jacket in the very same fabric and watched Harry wear it constantly around the house. He’d taken great pleasure (and an inordinate amount of time) to slip it off him while they kissed, too.

 

Today meant _everything._ It was their future, sealed and fated.

 

His eyes focused on the archway; on the beautiful Gemma who had insisted on giving Harry away. She looked stunning in her hot pink dress; brunette hair styled up in a pretty but loose chignon.  She had Harry’s smile; the same dimples dotting her cheeks and dark beauty to her eyes.

 

Louis' breath caught when he saw him.

 

He was wearing _purple_. The suit was iridescent, shiny and outrageous but perfectly fitted to his long body; jacket taut over his thick shoulders and wide back and trousers honing his lean, long legs.

 

Louis’ gaze dipped to his boots. Copper. Fucking hell. Maybe Harry was trying to kill him on his wedding day? He might actually succeed.

 

When Louis' gaze rested on his face; their eyes met and he saw the fear there in Harry’s.  He recognised the pale pallor of his skin and the tentative smile; like the very first time he’d asked him out.

 

Harry still had no idea how beautiful he was.

 

//

 

Shit.  Shit, shit, shit.

 

The suit was too much.

 

The suit was too much and everyone was staring. _Louis_ was staring. Louis was staring and he wasn’t _smiling.  Why wasn’t he smiling?_

Harry gasped in a breath; Gemma’s hand sliding up his spine to press him forward when his legs turned to weird jelly. They felt solid and wobbly all at the same time, how was that?

 

_What if he said no?_

Harry glanced at Louis again, his pretty features softened into crinkled blue eyes and the sweetest smile.

 

“Hey, love,” he mouthed with a wink.

 

Harry huffed in nervous laughter and double-stepped out of sync. He swallowed and tried to focus as Gemma righted him.

 

Shit.

 

His eyes clung to Louis' curves; the cut of the purple accented tartan complimenting him beautifully. It felt like forever until they shuffled together side by side.

 

His eyes widened when Louis' hand grasped his to squeeze it; pressing a kiss into his palm.

 

“So beautiful,” Louis murmured.  “Stunning...”

 

Harry smiled shyly and felt his cheeks flush as he let out a shaky breath. Maybe holding hands was okay. The Minister looked happy with that.

 

They'd picked the traditional service apart from their vows which they’d each written in private; keeping them secret until the day.

 

Louis went first and Harry felt anxiety spike in his body.

 

“Harold,” he grinned to break the nervous tension. “Think you know that I wanted you the second I saw you, but I’m not gonna lie...you took some convincing,” he teased, earning a titter from the audience. “Thankfully I _did_ manage to convince you because today is just the start, love. I want you to take this ring and wear it as a sign of my love and _complete_ commitment,” Louis promised as he shuffled closer to reach for the ring from Niall.

 

 “Always you,” he added softly as he nuzzled his lips against Harry’s cheek. Harry’s skin felt hot against the brush of his lips.

 

He watched Louis slide on his ring and bit his lip as it nestled prettily against the ginormous diamond set into his engagement ring. Louis' lips pursed smugly when his eyes settled on the sparkler; his thumb pressing slowly over its surface.

 

Harry could still remember the night he’d brought it home and how they’d fucked afterwards; a residual flutter of desire shimmering through his body and loss aching in his chest from _not_ holding Louis against him.

 

And _holy fuck_. Now he had to say something which in the barest minimum matched Louis' perfect speech.  His planned vows skipped out of his memory.

 

“Louis...I met you when things were really difficult for me, when dating was impossible and I was working towards my degree which was – well, you know,” he huffed with a swallow, peeking at the front row. Louis' sister Lottie was in his eye-line and gave him a thumbs up. He drew in a shaky breath. “You’re right,” he added. “I didn’t make it easy.”

 

Louis pressed his lips against his cheek and Harry dimpled.

 

“But you came to my rescue and you _made_ it easy,” he described. “You made falling in love with you really easy,” he breathed; biting his lip at Jay's badly-hidden gasp. “I’m giving you this ring as a symbol of my love and my loyalty. _Always_ ,” Harry echoed as he shakily put Louis' ring on.

 

Louis cuddled him while the Minister completed the service.

 

“You may now kiss,” the Minister announced finally.

 

Harry leaned down to smudge their lips together messily; fingertips ghosting along his jaw to settle the heel of his hand there to tilt his face up. Louis gently tipped onto his toes to kiss him back; eyes closed and arms around Harry’s waist.

 

They parted before they got carried away.

 

“You are now officially married,” the Minister confirmed and they turned; hands clenched tightly together to beam at their families.

 

Louis wiped his tears away onto his jacket sleeve as Jay surged forward to hug him.

 

“Well done, Lou,” she rubbed his back proudly.

 

He glanced at Harry who was crying wetly against Anne’s shoulder. She set Harry away when Jay squeezed in for a hug.  Louis smiled innocently at his Mother-in-Law.

 

“Hi.” He greeted.

 

“I was wrong,” Anne stated and Louis frowned.

 

_About what?_

“You _are_ really impressive and you _do_ deserve Harry,” she whispered, tears glistening in her kind eyes.

 

Louis reached to hug her, pressing a kiss onto her temple.

 

“I love you, Mum-In-Law,” he murmured teasingly.

 

Anne huffed and playfully tapped his arm.

 

“Get away with you!”

 

Louis slid his hand over Harry’s back as Harry clung to Jay.

 

“Oh Louis’ back to take over the cuddles,” Jay's hand stroked over his hair before he pulled away, kissing her cheek.

 

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me keep him.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes but slipped his arm around Harry's waist.

 

“That's it now Mum,” he joked. “Locked in the house and never allowed out. “

 

Jay smirked at the pair of them.

 

“Better get you some handcuffs for Christmas then,” she winked, moving away to let them exit the hall to start on their photos outside.

 

Harry let his fingertips brush ticklishly against Louis'. Louis' fingers slid through his in easy movement; practiced and so natural that he didn’t register what he was doing anymore. Harry registered it.  He noticed all the tiny, significant signals that showed Louis loved him more deeply than he’d ever be able to understand.

 

“You like being cuffed?” He leaned over to murmur into Louis' ear while they posed for their couple photos.

 

Louis’ gaze snapped to his. His lips curved at the same deliberate slowness as his hand did; sliding from his lower back to settle over his ass-cheek.

 

“Not the time to talk kinks, Harold,” he smirked.

 

Harry ‘s lips lifted in one corner; a tiny but naughty tug.

 

“I think the wedding album would look perfect with a few bulges...”

 

“A few?” Louis arched a brow. “How many people are you inviting to this kink fest?”

 

Harry smiled as he expertly curled Louis in toward him; hand resting tenderly against his cheek to guide him into a kiss. When Harry flexed his thumb into the groove of Louis' cheek; he felt Louis sigh softly right before connecting their lips. It was a sweet kiss; longing and hopeful. They were married now and Louis had never fit against him more perfectly; had never felt better in his arms.

 

“Eh-hem...”

 

They jolted apart; world around them forgotten momentarily.  Harry blinked and searched for the source of the interruption.

 

Emma; their photographer smiled knowingly.

 

“Did you want a few pictures where you _aren’t_ kissing, too?” She teased.

 

Harry’s head began to shake before he spoke.

 

“No,” he grinned, his breath hitching when Louis' hand slid into the middle of his ass; fingers dipping into the crease.  “I’m happy with snogging pictures,” he added quietly after.

 

“Think we might need a quick break,” Louis piped up, his hand shifting to slide into the small of Harry’s back under his jacket, making him shiver. Louis settled his fingers around his hip with a squeeze. “Drank too much coffee before-hand when I was nervous,” he added with an innocent flash of a smile.

 

Emma nodded; eyes narrowing and lips pursing suspiciously.

 

“Fine, I’ll get the first family shot set up for you both to slip in to,” she suggested. “Ten minutes, tops...”

 

Louis twined their fingers and tugged Harry away .

 

//

 

“Lou, _Jesus_ ,” Harry gasped; head thrown back and thudding softly against the ornate wood of the confession box which was shoved in a hidden corner of the church.

 

It smelled like wax and mustiness and the cool air pimpled his skin.

 

Louis lifted his chin; fingers digging into Harry’s opened trouser-fly to wrap around him; the heel of his hand having dragged up his thick shaft over the shiny purple fabric.

 

“I’m not Jesus,” Louis breathed; stroking his fingers fast and tight around him. “But feel free to confess...”

 

Harry grabbed the back of his head to kiss him; tongue thrusting into his mouth as he tried to arch his hips. Louis was pressed hard against him; pinning him in place and everything felt so intense. He was hot; contrasting with the cold of the box; their moans quietly shrouded by the soundproof booth.

 

“Fuck,” Harry shuddered; voice weak.

 

“Not now, Harold,” Louis lamented with a gruff voice; body pressing him hard into the wall while he rubbed up against him for friction. “God, you look beautiful,” he rasped.

 

“Shush,” Harry begged; swallowing thickly with a tailed-away whimper. “I can’t--I need-“

 

Louis slowed his up-stroke; slipping down fast and twisting up slow with a squeeze at the tip. Harry choked and pressed their mouths together again; hands cupping Louis' face for any kind of anchor he could find.

 

“Look so pretty, Harry,” Louis murmured. 

 

“My-my suit,” his brows furrowed in distracted realisation. “Don’t get it dirty...”

 

Louis smirked and got to his knees, mouth sealing over Harry’s dick.

 

Harry let out a strangled sound and his body rippled; shooting his seed onto Louis' tongue.

 

Louis stroked him gently through it as they kissed languidly after; Louis' hair ruined by Harry’s hands and Harry flushed with his release.

 

Harry sat down shakily on the tiny bench seat.

 

“Come here,” he reached for Louis, unhooking his trousers with orgasm-numb fingers.

 

Louis shuffled up with a confused frown; swallowing hard.

 

“Harold, you don’t have to—”

 

Harry slipped his hands inside the fabric of his trousers to slide them down his hips; pressing his nose and lips against his swollen heat.

 

“Want to,” he looked up to blink curled lashes over pupil-darkened eyes.

 

Louis gasped as Harry slipped him against his cheek; sucking tightly enough to bring him to a sweet; sudden release.

 

Harry smirked at him as they righted  their clothing.

 

“Someone was a little worked up; hmm?”

 

Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“That fucking suit,” was all he said; accusingly.

 

Harry laughed and stood to link their fingers once more.

 

“Let’s try and get these pictures done before they send a search party.”

 

The whoops and hollers they earned when they stepped outside coloured Harry’s cheeks perfectly for the rest of the shoot.

 

//

 

“Tired?” Louis asked Harry as he curled up against him on the dancefloor; the slow pulse of music pulling them into an intimate bubble of their own.

 

Their first dance had been filmed by every guest; the disco hits afterwards more upbeat with Emma snapping subtle shots of the party goers.

 

The slow dance part of the night was magical; almost. The last remnant of their lifelong promises.

 

“Mm,” Harry agreed in a deep; worn voice. “Love you.”

 

Louis smiled, chin tucked against his styled hair. They'd received emergency touch ups from Lottie before resuming the photo shoot with their families.

 

“I love you too.”

 

His glittering blue eyes roamed over the dance floor where Jay and Anne (who had become fast friends) danced the slow song together.

 

“Think we can escape?” Harry asked; shifting to slip his arms around Louis' waist and unable to stop himself from dropping a tender kiss to his mouth.

 

Louis arched a brow.

 

“Whatever for, Harold?” Louis smirked. “Don't you want to celebrate with our loved ones?”

 

Harry looked at him with intense green eyes.

 

“I want you to fuck me in this suit,” he pleaded roughly, eyes slipping to one side to check he hadn’t been heard.

 

Louis felt something in his body pop. He pressed against Harry unconsciously.

 

“Oh,” he murmured.

 

“Mmm,” Harry hummed.

 

“That's...well, that’s...we can do that,” Louis promised. “In fact, I’m heading outside for a celebratory smoke right now while you slip to the loo and how about we just jump in the cab that I call the second I step in the hallway?”

 

Harry’s brow furrowed.

 

“You’re not really going to smoke are you, Lou?”

 

Louis grazed the backs of his fingers gently against the inside of Harry’s wrist when they stepped apart.

 

“Just a cover to get out, beautiful. I promise.”

 

Harry nodded and span to march towards the hallway; Louis starting furtively after him with his hand rubbing the  back of his neck.

 

//

 

“Oh Boo-bear, where are you going?”

 

His mother’s voice stopped him a few feet from the door.

 

He turned with a forced smile.

 

“Secret smoke,” he shrugged. “Harry doesn’t like me to but today’s been so overwhelming...”

 

Jay walked over to hug him.

 

“He's so beautiful.  I’m so happy for you both. Today has been perfect, you deserve a little treat...”

 

Louis let out a relieved breath and turned toward the door.

 

“And Louis?” Jay called. He glanced over his shoulder; forward step paused.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Say goodnight to Harry for me,” she smiled as she turned back inside; leaving Louis gaping.

 

//

 

Harry’s shirt was unbuttoned but his jacket stretched across his shoulders as he wriggled on his belly; thighs widening on the bed.

 

Louis roughly licked into him; trousers yanked down to his knees and binding his lower legs in place. 

 

“C’mon Lou,” he breathed. “Want you inside me...”

 

Louis licked a stripe up his cleft onto the peachy skin of his ass; biting down slightly.

 

“Patience, Harold,” he murmured as he slicked his fingers enough to twist them right into him; having stretched out his muscles before getting distracted with his tongue.

 

Harry felt Louis shift between his thighs; more lube splashing into him cold and slick as he clenched around nothing. Louis tilted him slightly to run his hand down his chest; circling over his tight tummy muscles and flaring out over his hip dent.

 

Harry pressed back against him; grinding his ass against Louis’ heat until his tip caught on his rim.

 

“C'mon Lou,” Harry begged softly.

 

Louis slid his hand back over his ribs; the heel of his palm pressing between his pecs as he rolled forward; the motion and Louis' hip flex sinking him quickly and deeply inside.

 

Harry clenched around him and gasped; willing himself not to tense up. The sensation was indescribable. Thick and hot and pulsing. He felt himself quiver around the feeling of Louis so tight inside him and rushed out an embarrassed breath.

 

“Gave that up quick;” he mumbled to himself.

 

Louis kissed the back of his neck and thrusted. Harry grasped the covers in clenched fingers.

 

“Such a gorgeous colour,” Louis’ free hand dragged fingertips over the sleeve of his suit.

 

Harry opened his mouth to respond but Louis flicked his hips and silenced him with another deep thrust.

 

“C-can you just stay inside?” Harry whispered, throat bobbing with a swallow.

 

Louis nuzzled his ear.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Please,” Harry added softly; hoping he had heard and wasn’t going to make him beg.

 

He tried to widen his thighs as Louis sank in and then ground his hips against his ass but his knees were restricted by his half-shucked trousers and it felt like too much.

 

“O-oh,” he ducked his head; a tremor starting across his body.

 

Louis settled against his back; a pleasant heavy weight.

 

“Like this?” Louis murmured.

 

Harry nodded and tried to circle his hips to work himself on Louis' heat but he was trapped in place. He whimpered and Louis gently rolled his hips. Harry felt the sinful burn as Louis was sheathed within him; still tightly fitting into place in his body.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Louis whispered. “Look so good right now...”

 

Harry  couldn’t see how good anything _looked_ but it _felt_ incredible. Everything felt brand new and familiar in the best way possible; Louis’ love-bites sucked into his skin and gentle hands working him over. He came in Louis’ tight hand; the smaller man propped over him. While he was regaining semblance he registered his clothes being peeled off tenderly; replaced with soft, warm fleece pyjamas that he curled up in.

 

Louis settled behind him with his usual protective hold.

 

“I can’t believe you’re Harry Tomlinson now,” Louis smiled, blowing air across Harry’s neck to make him shiver and then consoling the back of his neck with a kiss.

 

Harry grasped his hand and pressed it to his chest.

 

“The Firm already changed my details to my new name,” he yawned. “It’s going to sound great in court.”

 

“Harry Tomlinson,” Louis breathed his new name with a bite of his lip to curb his happy smile.

 

Harry picked his hand up to kiss his palm.

 

 “Yes, love?”

 

Louis gently brushed his sweat-curled hair sway from his face.

 

“Thank you for marrying me,” Louis whispered.

 

Harry snorted.

 

“Shut up. Go to sleep.”

 

Louis settled.

 

“You were never this feisty before,” he grumbled softly.

 

Harry felt his smirk pull his dimple into his cheek.

 

“I’m a Tomlinson now. Comes with the territory.”

 

Louis held him tighter with a satisfied hum.

 

 

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
